


the sun will rise & we will try again. (i want to say hello.)

by courage_of_stars



Series: & all i can breathe is your life. (have heart, my dear.) [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series), The Try Guys (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF, Watcher Entertainment
Genre: (Past referenced suicide attempt), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Coming Out, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Falling In Love, Families of Choice, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecurity, Intimacy, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Abuse, Racism, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Suicide Attempt, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 35,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24620647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courage_of_stars/pseuds/courage_of_stars
Summary: "You deserve to be happy too."---(In which Andrew and Steven fall in love, and fight to be together-- with help from friends along the way.)
Relationships: Adam Bianchi/Jonathan Kirk, Andrew Ilnyckyj/Steven Lim, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej, Zach Kornfeld/Eugene Lee Yang
Series: & all i can breathe is your life. (have heart, my dear.) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780078
Comments: 18
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mental health, anxiety, depression, past abuse, past eating disorder, past self-harm, past suicide attempt, homophobia, racism, alcohol
> 
> \-- Ryan and Shane: [in the darkness, would you call in the name of love? ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655962)
> 
> \-- Zach, Eugene, Keith and Ned: [i'll take your hand when thunder roars. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696462)
> 
> **Please do not share this with Worth It, Watcher, The Try Guys, Buzzfeed Unsolved, or any other RPF individuals. This is not for them to read. Thank you!

"G'morning!"

There's only one person who sounds upbeat this early. Before Andrew has a chance to turn around, Steven tackles him from behind. Bright laughter plays into Andrew's ear. If sunlight could manifest into a sound, it's what Andrew hears right now. As laughter trails off into a happy sigh, Steven rests his chin on Andrew's shoulder.

A smile tugs at the corner of Andrew's lips. "Good morning." Despite the rough notes, fondness still carries through his voice. Normally, Andrew ranges from quiet to silent in the mornings. But Steven always gets him talking. Andrew turns his head for their eyes to meet. "You sleep alright?"

"Mmhm!" Steven rocks on his heels, so they're both swaying a little. It's almost impossible for Steven to stay completely still. "What about you, Drew?"

"Yeah, more or less." It's not a complete lie, and it's not a complete truth. Andrew's not one to be dishonest. But he still carries his own share of secrets. There's no need to dampen Steven's cheerfulness with news of struggling to sleep. With a soft sigh, Andrew rests their heads together. "I'm just really happy to see you."

Wait.

_What?_

Andrew's stoic expression hides how mortified he is. The man doesn't mean to kick his filter out the window. Neon signs might as well flash around them, screaming Andrew's love for his best friend and co-host.

But Steven just takes Andrew's words in stride. He even does one better. "Same, dude! I couldn't wait to see you today, 'cause I brought you a surprise!" Beaming, Steven holds his arm out. Waving in front of Andrew is a bag of cookies tied off with a royal blue ribbon. Shimmering gold borders the satin edges.

"Stevie--" Andrew's gaze softens as he takes the gift. His thumb runs over a ribbon tail while admiring Steven's work. The chocolate-chip cookies are undoubtedly perfection. No one's in-tune with Andrew's tastes like his best friend. "This is awesome, dude. Thank you." A thought crosses his mind. Without breaking out of the embrace, Andrew turns around to face Steven. "Were you stress baking again?"

With a huff, Steven tries to frown. But he only ends up pouting adorably. "Not _every_ time I bake means I'm stress baking." With a smile, Steven fixes Andrew's shirt collar. "Just felt like making you something, that's all."

Andrew stares. His lungs forget how to draw in air. He doesn't know what to do with Steven's unconditional kindness. There are no ulterior intentions. No hidden agendas. Andrew holds the treats closer to his chest, so he doesn't take Steven's face in his hands, and kiss him. Andrew's traitorous mind and even more traitorous heart daydreams about such things. But he's not going to fuck up his best friendship and work relationship. Steven, Adam and so many others have given everything to Worth It. Andrew can't jeopardize the show.

But there's still a desire to express his gratitude. So, Andrew asks, "Can I treat you to lunch?"

"Drew, it's a gift!" As Steven laughs, his smile reaches his eyes. "You don't owe me anything."

It's hard not to join in Steven's laughter. _Fuck._ Steven makes joy so easy. And it's the kind of joy that flows through all of Andrew's body. Even if it's only for fleeting moments, or few hours a day, this joy alleviates the heaviness Andrew carries inside.

"That's really nice of you, dude. But I'd still like to take you out, because-..."

Andrew's mind scrambles for a platonic excuse. But the blue-gold ribbon proves to be distracting. Knowing someone's favorite color is easy. However Steven asked what some of Andrew's favorite _color schemes_ are. Blue and gold paired together happens to be one of them. Steven remembering sparks flickers of warmth in Andrew's chest.

"--because I- I just-" Andrew's brain turns into the Mac rainbow spinning wheel. All thoughts lag slower by the second. "I like-- having lunch with you...?"

Bless Steven for not registering Andrew's awkwardness. He only beams brighter. Warm brown eyes light up. "Same here! I'll come by your desk around lunch break?"

Andrew's fingers curl into the ribbons. There's going to be traces of gold glitter on his hands, but Andrew doesn't care. "Yeah, that sounds great."

"Awesome!" Steven gives Andrew another tight hug. "I'll see you later. Have a good day, Drew!"

Andrew returns Steven's smile with one of his own. "You too, Stevie."

Exhaling slowly, Andrew sits down. Steven is a hurricane of happiness, light and warmth that never fails to punch the wind out of him. Even without touching his face, Andrew feels the burn of a fierce blush. For a moment, he almost compares himself to a lovesick school boy.

But the metaphor cuts off short. Even years well into adulthood, there's still echoes of heartache. Something acidic bristles at the edges. Feels like emptiness. Maybe a little like grief. Memories of adolescence threaten to rise. But Andrew reigns in his mind. Nothing productive comes out of reflecting a past better left buried.

While Andrew sets down the baked goods, Shane and Ryan look over from their desks. Simultaneously. They even wear the same deranged grins. The smiles complement the mad light in their eyes.

Andrew counters with a deadpan. He's one of the few who can still go up against the power couple. Although today might be a little more challenging. The red and black flannel on Ryan is most definitely Shane's. Wearing his boyfriend's clothes is the ultimate power boost for Ryan's chaotic energy.

Dryly, Andrew asks, "Why can't you two be soft and sweet like Eugene and Zach?"

To drive his point home, Andrew waves in the direction of The Try Guys. Eugene just set down a tea mug on his boyfriend's desk. Zach gives a mega watt smile that's damned near blinding. His sound of delight can be heard across the space. Zach tugs on Eugene's sleeve to pull him down for a kiss. As Eugene returns the kiss, he melts. Eugene indulges by nuzzling against Zach like an affectionate cat. He lingers there for a few seconds, most likely whispering something sweet and heartfelt. Eugene's laughter breaks free as Zach showers him with light kisses.

There's a softness to Eugene that surfaces more around Zach. He appears more comfortable with himself. And Zach only shines brighter, coming more to life with Eugene by his side. The sight's so fucking endearing that Andrew, Ryan and Shane share a collective wheeze.

"That's an unsolved mystery right there," Shane remarks with an amused grin. "How Eugene Lee Yang becomes the softest human being on the planet, because of Zach Kornfeld."

"Even when they're just in the same room!" Ryan gestures animatedly with a sleeve paw. 

"I'd say even when Eugene hears Zach's name, or _thinks_ about him." With a hand on his chest, Shane pretends to keel over. "My heart can't take it, man."

"Since when do you have a heart?" Ryan smirks with a brow raising. "Thought you sold it to the Devil after lying on _another_ pentagram."

"Darling, if anyone took my heart, it would be you-" 

Shane's words turn into muffled laughter as Ryan shoves a sleeve paw in his face. Ryan screeches like a flustered pterodactyl. A blush creeps all the way down his neck. Shane catches Ryan's wrist to pull him in closer. Chairs collide as they meet in a kiss.

Andrew shakes his head. "Zach and Eugene are like heartwarming kind of cute. You two are like-- chocolate that's a little too sweet, so it tastes kinda salty."

"Gosh darn, Ry!" Shane feigns over-exaggerated surprise. Even slaps his knee for good measure. It's never too early for the Ghoul Boys' theatrics. "Look at Ilnyckyj here making _food_ metaphors. Couldn't have seen that one coming from a mile away."

"Go easy on him, babe." Ryan plays with Shane's hair. Today, it's a fluffy mess. Ryan can run his fingers through the brown strands all he wants. "Those Worth It boys don't know any better than digesting gold, diamonds and truffles."

Andrew gives them both an unimpressed stare. "Salty chocolate might've been too kind of a comparison."

"Okay, okay, but hold up for real--" Ryan straightens his shoulders. "Zach and Eugene are freaking cute. The world agrees on that. But Shane and I are _cuter._ In a Bonnie and Clyde kinda way-- but without doing anything illegal."

"Sweetheart, it ain't illegal if you don't get caught." Shane drapes an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders. There's a hint of mischief to his playful smirk. "We'd keep everyone running in circles."

Ryan throws his head back to laugh loudly. "With all the cases we've been looking into, I'd say we know our way around the law, huh?"

Andrew lets the Unsolved duo riff on each other, in hopes they'll forget what they witnessed between Steven and himself. But of course, the universe has other plans. One of Shane and Ryan's favorite past times is interrogating Andrew. They're not letting him off easily.

"Is that your millionth lunch date with Steven?"

Damn Ryan Bergara. He just has to fire that question as Andrew's sipping on coffee. By a miracle, Andrew manages not to choke, splutter, or do anything equally embarrassing. He sets the coffee down carefully.

"Sure. We're co-workers." Andrew clears his throat. Answering e-mails has never been so riveting. He tries to keep his eyes on the screen. But he keeps glancing at the black keyboard shimmering with gold glitter. "Co-workers can eat together."

" _Just_ co-workers?"

"Who are also best friends."

" _Just_ best friends?"

Passive-aggressively, Andrew takes a long, drawn out sip of coffee. He tries to think of something to retort with. But his stern look falters. Truth is that there's nothing to lie about. "Yeah," Andrew says quietly, looking down at the coffee. "Just...best friends."

His gaze drifts to the cookies. Simply because Steven surprises Andrew with heartfelt gifts doesn't mean that Steven's romantically interested. Andrew's not presumptuous enough to assume such things. And it's in Steven's nature to be so earnest, so genuine. His expressions of love and affection can't be rivaled.

Anyways, why would _Steven_ want _Andrew?_

It's not that Andrew sets Steven on a pedestal. Or anyone else for that matter. Andrew takes his time with getting to know people. What he's learned about Steven is that he's truly good, kind and moral. If Steven makes a mistake, he doesn't get defensive. He listens to people, commits to empathizing, and owns up to doing better. There's a show of character from Steven that inspires people to reflect on themselves, and continually grow.

Even before Buzzfeed, Andrew already respected and admired Steven from his personal YouTube channel. Andrew was deeply inspired and moved by Steven's work. Not only was Steven brave enough to share his own vulnerabilities. But he created a space where more people could share their experiences, and voices could be heard.

To actually _meet_ Steven in-person, and now even _work with_ him, and be _his_ _best friend_ still leaves Andrew reeling. Steven's just as genuine off-camera as he is on-camera.

Meanwhile, Andrew is a mess masquerading as a functioning adult. Sure, he's been making progress working through personal shit. But Andrew has an agonizingly long way to go. One of the hardest parts of therapy is realizing that he's not going to get better within a few sessions. It's a long, often exhausting process. Andrew worries if he's actually ever going to recover.

It's simple: Steven deserves better.

The more Andrew introspects, everything grows heavier. As much as Andrew opened up to the idea of experiencing joy-- he hasn't forgotten its ephemeral, temporary nature. Fireworks are brilliant and beautiful. But inevitably, those flickers die, and he's left in the dark again.

Typed words on the screen blur. Slowly, breathing feels more like drowning. Cold water fills his lungs. His ribcage tightens with rising anxiety.

"Andrew--"

From the corner of his eye, Andrew sees a hand reaching out. He doesn't flinch. But instincts kick in. Andrew tenses ever so slightly, stops breathing-- as if bracing himself for inevitable impact.

"Fuck, shit, I'm sorry," Shane apologizes quickly. Guilt strickens his face. He's about to withdraw his hand. "Andrew, I-" 

"It's okay. You're okay." Andrew guides Shane's hand to rest on his shoulder. He holds it there for a few moments, so his body and mind know there's no threat here. _'This is a kind touch. Not harmful,'_ Andrew tells himself silently. _'Shane is your best friend. Shane is safe. You're safe.'_ Andrew breathes through the wave of apprehension. Gradually, it simmers down. "I trust you." He looks at Ryan who's also gazing worriedly at him. "Both of you."

Shane gives Andrew's shoulder a squeeze. "Y'know we tease you, because we love you, right?"

"It's like kicking you off the playground slide," Ryan adds with a smile.

"So, you just _happen_ to fall into a dug out pit in the sandbox."

"And we _accidentally_ bury you alive."

"I appreciate your expression of affection." In spite of his dry drawl, Andrew still smiles.

"Our offer's still open." Ryan attempts to waggle his eyebrows. "If you wanna join us for a ghost hunt."

Now, Andrew's deadpan returns at full caliber. "So, I can watch you scream at _gravity_ and _dust_ for an entire night?" He laughs with Shane as they high-five. They miss at first, but make up for it with a fist bump.

 _"Dude!"_ Ryan gasps in betrayal with wide eyes. He slaps a hand on the desk. "Are you a _Shaniac?!_ "

"Anyone in their right mind is," Shane replies with a proud grin.

Andrew chuckles. The three of them fall into easy conversation while working.

Later when Andrew tries a cookie during lunch, Steven watches with wide, hopeful eyes. Even with all the incredible food they've sampled during Worth It, nothing compares with what Steven makes. The heart Steven puts into everything is overwhelming. 

And so is Steven's smile when Andrew gives his verdict:

"Perfect."

* * *

Sometimes, they share hotel rooms.

Sometimes, these hotel rooms have only one bed.

Andrew stares blankly at the single bed. There's enough space for both of them. But Andrew wonders if Steven would prefer his own bed. Maybe Andrew can talk with the receptionist to sort this out.

But Steven doesn't get flustered or upset even for a second. He just sets his bag down, and pulls off his hat to ruffle his hair. With a boyish grin, Steven asks, "Which side do you want?"

"Uhm..." Andrew looks to the window, then glances at the ceiling. "Seems like the AC comes from the window side, so I'll sleep there. Don't want you getting cold."

"Thanks, dude! Gosh, you're so sweet." Playfully, Steven nudges his best friend. "I'd say you're _sweeter_ than the chocolate cake we had today."

Groaning, Andrew face palms. He looks at Steven through the spaces between his fingers. "Are my puns rubbing off on you?"

"They sure are!" Steven declares proudly. One hand settles on his hip. With his other hand, Steven fires a finger gun. "Ryan taught me that in order to fight Shane's chaoticness, he became _more_ chaotic. So, I'm gonna be _more punny_ than you."

"Grammatically speaking, shouldn't it be _'punnier'?_ "

Of all things, _that's_ what knocks Steven out with an 1-Hit K.O. He collapses on the bed, dissolving into a giggling mess. Steven holds his stomach, and struggles to catch his breath from laughing so hard. Only pure happiness exists in this room. Andrew fights the urge to join Steven, and try to catch his lips in a kiss. Or maybe just hold Steven in his arms. Lay there while taking in Steven's laughter, Steven's smile, Steven's existence.

Instead Andrew settles for tousling Steven's silver hair. As Andrew's fingers thread through the silky locks, Steven leans into his touch. Steven looks up with warm eyes.

"Drew?"

"Yeah?"

"Wanna know why today was a good day?"

"Why?"

Steven's lips curve into a smile against Andrew's palm. "Because we're together."

Andrew forgets how to breathe. His heart aches from the overflowing love he feels for this man. "You're right, Stevie." Andrew brushes his thumb across Steven's cheek. "Today was a good day." Before giving into the temptation of kissing that smile, Andrew draws his hand away.

Steven catches Andrew's wrist. "And tomorrow will only be better," he says with eyes full of promise and hope.

Warmth softens Andrew's gaze even more. "Yeah." His heart sighs quietly. Andrew genuinely believes in those words when spoken by Steven.

They take turns showering, run over tomorrow's agenda and notes, then settle into bed. Steven and Andrew exchange good-nights. Exhaustion from travel finally kicks in. Bright city lights bleed through the sliver of space between closed curtains. Andrew watches that single beam of light. But his attention sets most on the sound of Steven's breathing. It lulls Andrew into deeper drowsiness. Just as Andrew's about to fall asleep, Steven tugs on his sleeve.

"Drew-- are you still awake?"

"Mmhm. What's up?"

"Can we...y'know...?"

Slowly, Andrew turns his head. He's not sure when Steven moved closer, lying on his side, face mere inches away. With Andrew's eyes already adjusted to the dark, he sees more than Steven's contour. Andrew sees the way Steven looks at him-- as if he's at home with Andrew. As if Andrew pulled down the constellations, just to rearrange their shapes to Steven's liking, then freed them back into the sky. As if Andrew is a source of light, of hope, of good things. As if Andrew is someone to love.

Andrew's heart races wildly as Steven draws even nearer. Lips almost brushing. In the dark, Steven whispers:

"Can we cuddle?"

It's not disappointment that floors Andrew. But overwhelming endearment. It fucking bulldozes over the man. Jesus Christ. How the Hell can Steven be so adorable?

"Or- if not--" Steven laughs to cover up his nervousness. But it doesn't hide how Steven curls in on himself, already trying to recede, pull back, hide away. "That's totally cool! I- I just-"

Andrew pulls Steven into his arms. As the embrace tightens, Steven lets out a delighted gasp. It takes on the nature of daybreak as the sound grows into a full, rich laugh. Andrew wants to memorize the feel of Steven's laughter against his shoulder. Steven moves around until his back presses against Andrew's chest, and he's tucked safely in the man's arms. 

"Mmm..." Steven practically purrs. "You're so warm, Drew."

"One of us has to be." With a chuckle, Andrew feels around for the blankets, and makes sure Steven's covered. "You get cold easily."

"But it's okay!" Steven leans back more against Andrew. "I have you."

"Is that the real reason you brought me on the show?" Andrew teases playfully. "To have a human furnace?"

"No, silly." Steven's laughter carries through the dark. "It's because I love the way you look at the world, and how you experience food as a way to bring people together, and encourage them to share their stories, and you're so kind to everyone we meet, and watch out for our team, and teach me so many new things--" Steven takes in a breath, then exhales shakily in awe and fondness. "And I'm happy people get to see that through our show. I want them to see someone good like you exists. Life is better with you in it."

Even before halfway through Steven's words, tears sting Andrew's eyes. Holding his breath steady proves to be a challenge. Steven sees him in a way Andrew can't. It's moments like these when Andrew falls harder for Steven. But most of all-- Andrew just wants to take care of him. Protect him. Make him happy.

"Steven--" _'I love you. I love you. I love you-'_ "--I love you."

Before Andrew can backtrack, and cover up the crime scene of those three words-- Steven looks over his shoulder. With the lights turned off, the bedroom's already shrouded in darkness. But ambient light from beyond the window reveals Steven's face. Or maybe it's Andrew's mind drawing Steven's features in the shadows. The warmth of that smile is felt through Steven's gentle laughter. 

"I love you, too."

There's no heartache. Not in this moment. Later, Andrew will return to agonizing over the never-ending ambiguity of their relationship. For restless nights alone, he'll save the questions: _"Are we just friends? Just co-workers? Does Steven...maybe like me too?"_

But tonight, Andrew squeezes another fit of giggles out of Steven. Andrew's heart threatens to burst at the seams. Even just _breathing_ feels good right now. Steven rests his hand over Andrew's. Their fingers intertwine. Under his palm, Andrew feels Steven's heartbeat. While Andrew commits that steadfast rhythm to memory, they drift off to sleep.

* * *

In the dead of night, Andrew wakes up.

Or he tries to.

Andrew can't move.

He's lying on his side, facing the window, frozen in place.

Can't even move a finger.

Rationally, Andrew knows what's going on: sleep paralysis. An experience of being conscious, but unable to move and/or speak. Occurs when passing between states of being awake versus being asleep. Also known as when shit hits the fan with his REM cycle. Sometimes, there's an immense weight shoving down his chest. Or an invisible hand tightening around his throat. Usually lasts a few minutes.

But a fleeting moment stretches out into what feels like an eternity.

Even with all the research Andrew's conducted during restless nights, and hours spent in therapy, there's no guarantee of eliminating sleep paralysis. This amorphous threat lurks under the surface. Since Andrew hasn't had an episode in weeks, he naively assumed this is over. But of all times this could happen, it's when _he's with Steven._

On the other side of the bed, Steven sleeps soundly. He must've rolled over earlier in the night, dragging the sheets with him, and hugging a pillow. Silently, Andrew pleads that Steven doesn't wake up. His best friend doesn't need to lose sleep over Andrew's nocturnal Hell.

If Andrew could move only an arm, he'd cover his mouth. Even when he can't scream. But Andrew can only stare at dark curtains with dim eyes. He barely blinks as tears escape. It's not only terror that suffocates him.

But the familiar sense of defeat.

Growing up, Andrew never felt safe at home, in school, in church, in the neighborhood, in the world. Then one day, Andrew stopped feeling safe in his own body. No matter how diligently he attends therapy, how he strives to take care of himself, how he has a job he loves, how he's surrounded by people who care about him--

It's not enough, is it?

The universe keeps giving Andrew signs that he should _go._ Even to the point that invisible parasites exist in his mind, burrowing into neurons and veins, all the way down to the cracks of his tired soul. As another tear runs down the side of his face, Andrew's chest seizes. Both from a lack of air and heartbreak.

Andrew wishes sleep paralysis is simple as the overwhelming feeling of being crushed, straining to breathe, darkness creeping in. But being held a prisoner in his own body is too much like---

His lungs collapse.

A ghost of a sob splinters through the air.

Andrew will gladly take excruciating suffocation over an unwanted trip down memory lane. But his mind's still Hellbent on dragging him down that road. Inhales and exhales stutter all over the place. Andrew chokes. A few strained sounds escape. Rather than focusing on breathing, Andrew exerts more energy on trying to stay silent. He can't wake Steven. He can't let Steven see him like this. He can't burden Steven. He can't-

"Andrew?"

Warm, amber light of the bedroom lamp pushes back darkness. It should be comforting. But Andrew would rather disappear than be exposed in this vulnerable state. What more proof does Steven need to see that Andrew's too broken, too damaged, too much of a mess to be loved? Fear brutally lances across his body. Everything Steven said earlier about Andrew...How can that be true when Andrew's too weak to fight against his own mind?

"Oh-" Steven's breath hitches. "Drew--"

Andrew pleads for the darkness to return, so it buries him alive. Shame carves the man out hollow. All his insides are excavated until he forgets the weight of his own organs.

"You're safe, Drew. I'm right here with you."

Steven's voice is a soothing murmur, trickling warmly through the cold ocean of fear. But it also spikes Andrew's panic. _He woke up Steven._ His best friend is missing out on sleep, because Andrew's fucked brain woke up before the rest of his worthless, broken, damaged body. His bones threaten to shatter under the lead weight of guilt.

Why _the fuck_ did this have to happen when they're together?

Worst part is that it's not the first time. Or second. It most likely won't be the last.

"We made a plan for this, remember?" Steven slides his hand under Andrew's palm. "You're going to hold my hand. And focus on breathing."

Steven helps move Andrew onto his back, so his lungs can expand freely. His other hand runs through Andrew's blonde hair in comforting waves. "It's only you and me in the room. No one else."

Desperately, Andrew tries to believe in that. But with his mind running haywire, and trauma kicking the door down like an uninvited house guest, Andrew flickers between the past and present. One by one, different areas of his body sting and bite and burn from phantom pain. The people who inflicted physical wounds probably don't even remember Andrew. And yet, his body, mind and heart can't forget.

Steven doesn't take his gaze away from Andrew. There's no anger, no disappointment, no resentment, no pity in those brown eyes. Only love, kindness, and fierce protectiveness. "I promise, no one's going to hurt you. I'll do everything to keep you safe." He dries Andrew's damp face. "I love you so much."

 _'I love you, too,'_ Andrew tries to say with his eyes, since he can't say it with his voice. 

Steven keeps talking to Andrew, grounding him in reality, reinforcing that he's safe. Andrew's breathing grows closer to matching with Steven's. But the man can only just barely curl his fingers. If he could open his mouth, Andrew doesn't know if he'd scream or sob. But even his jaws are clamped shut, lips stitched together by invisible steel thread.

"Hold my hand, Drew." Steven wipes away stray tears. Once feeling Andrew's fingers twitch and curl a little more, Steven smiles brighter. "Yeah, just like that! You've got this. And I won't let go either, okay?"

The promise in Steven's warm eyes gives Andrew the push to fully hold his hand. It should be enough. But it's not. The rest of his body remains frozen. More tears fall. Andrew is _so fucking exhausted._ This isn't something he's fighting only tonight. But all of his life up until now. And what's most terrifying is knowing he has to keep fighting after tonight.

Maybe it's time he gives up.

Maybe it doesn't get better.

Maybe his family was right.

Sleep paralysis isn't real. It's a demon perched on his chest, because he's a sinner.

Anxiety isn't real. It's the Devil claiming him, because he's a sinner.

Depression isn't real. It's God punishing him, because he's a sinner.

> _"If you stay gay, this is what's going to happen to you."_
> 
> Endless images of cruelty play onscreen. Rapid-fire succession. Painting a kaleidoscope future of unspeakable horrors--

No.

> _"What are you crying about? We told you this would happen. You made life harder for yourself by choosing homosexuality."_
> 
> He's older, but still feels like the boy waking up in the cold hospital room.
> 
> Did he actually survive?
> 
> Or is he going to keep dying over and over?

No, fuck that.

He's not a sinner. He's not broken. He's not wrong.

And he's fighting.

Every day.

Every night.

With a sharp gasp, the paralysis finally breaks. A sob tears out at the same time. He holds Steven's hand so tightly that it must hurt. But Steven only holds Andrew's hand back. Violent shudders rack Andrew's frame. Shame, guilt and humiliation scorch him. He's covered in third-degree burns. Everything feels raw. Andrew tries to turn away from Steven.

How could Steven still want to touch him?

But Steven reaches for him. The moment they're facing each other, Andrew's pulled in closer, and kept in a strong embrace. Fractured sobs escape as Andrew fights hard to stay silent. He gasps into Steven's chest, "I'm sorry- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry--"

"Drew--" Steven holds on tighter. His lips brush across Andrew's forehead. "You did nothing wrong. I just-" His fingers curl into the back of Andrew's shirt. "I wish I could help you hurt less." Steven draws back a little, so he can look at Andrew. "What can I do for you?"

Andrew's grateful how Steven never forcefully pries. Steven always leaves it open to Andrew if he wants to share or not. Through his blurred vision, Andrew gazes at his hand holding onto Steven's sweater. Selfish words scratch at the inside of his throat, trying to claw their way out. Andrew attempts to swallow them back down. But at the touch of Steven's hand on his cheek, Andrew releases the words out into the open:

"Please don't go."

Steven's eyes widen.

Silence falls on the room.

A piercing ache resonates in Andrew's chest. Did Andrew finally cross the line? Is he wanting too much? He's being selfish, isn't he? A torrent of harrowing emotions shove at Andrew's bones, puncturing his own lungs. It's like he's caught in sleep paralysis all over again.

Steven takes Andrew's face in his hands. Their foreheads touch. Something about the intimacy makes it impossible for Andrew to fight his tears.

"Andrew, I'm not leaving you." Steven's thumb catches a tear before wiping it away. "This is right where I want to be."

More tears burn Andrew's eyes. He believes Steven. Not only because lying has never been Steven's forte. But Steven respects and loves people too much to lie to them. Steven's answer washes Andrew with gratitude and relief. And yet there's still an undercurrent of fear, grief and guilt.

"I keep making things hard for you." Andrew's voice remains at a whisper. If he talks any louder, his words will crack into incoherence. Being confronted with the sound of his own vulnerability feels like a rusted, serrated blade dragging across his skin. "I'm not trying to push you away. I just- I don't-- You're losing sleep. You'll be tired tomorrow. I'm sorry, I-"

"You're worth it," Steven declares with unwavering conviction. The lamp light catches on his tears. "And yeah, I know. It's a pun." Steven laughs softly. "But I mean it, Andrew. I'm with you right now, and I'm going to keep being with you, because _you're worth it._ There's nothing for you to be sorry about. So-- let me stay?"

Everything inside Andrew screams at him to run. Or close the door on Steven. Or keep digging that metaphorical gravesite, and bury himself along with the shovel. It's one of the reasons Andrew understands Eugene and Shane so well. Although for different reasons and traumas, they've spent most of their lives keeping people at a distance. But Andrew thinks about how they've been so brave lately.

And so is Steven. Always bearing his heart and soul. Fearless about letting tears fall. Holding his emotions up to the sky, no matter how messy and vulnerable.

"Okay," Andrew whispers, moving in closer. "Stay with me." 

When Steven smiles, it feels like the sun breaking over the horizon. "I'm right here with you."

It's tempting for Andrew to confess his feelings tonight. But the man exercises restraint. Andrew doesn't want to make Steven feel emotionally obliged to respond a certain way, just because Andrew's a goddamned wreck right now. At least, that's his rationale. He's too emotionally exhausted to know if it's actually the right kind of rationale, or if he's self-sabotaging again. His thoughts churning in a blender are interrupted by an involuntary shiver. 

"Guess it's colder on your side after all." Steven rubs Andrew's arms, trying to warm him up. "Wanna switch?"

Andrew shakes his head. "No. I like you on that side."

"Okay." Steven laughs fondly. "Hold on a sec. I'll be right back."

Andrew thinks he feels Steven kiss the top of his head. Or maybe that's just his imagination. When Steven leaves the bed, Andrew buries his face into Steven's pillow. He deeply breathes in the comforting scent. For a brief moment, Andrew almost dozes off.

Steven returns to the bed with a hoodie, and slides it on Andrew. When something's overlarge on Steven, it still fits comfortably on Andrew's broader frame. Steven turns off the lamp, and lays back down. He pulls Andrew in closer. By now, they're both pretty much on one half of the bed.

"Stevie--" Andrew looks at the dark sleeve. "Isn't this your favorite?"

"I'm letting you _borrow_ it. So, I expect it back at some point." Steven grins playfully. He winds a drawstring between his fingers. "Y'know why it's my favorite?"

"It's black. You like the color."

"True." Steven brushes blonde strands out of Andrew's eyes. "But remember that time we hung out in Santa Monica?"

Andrew chuckles under his breath. "When we both wanted to check out Pacific Park for the first time?"

"Yeah! One of the best days of my life. No kidding." Steven's laughter stifles against the pillow. "But it got freaking cold after sunset. You bought me this hoodie from the most touristy shop, and we _live_ in Southern California."

"I didn't want you to get sick." Andrew lets out a chuckle. "And I know you really wanted to try the funnel cake. I wasn't going to have us leave until we did that."

There's a lull of silence as Steven watches Andrew. His gaze softens. "You're amazing, Drew." He holds on tighter, burying his face into Andrew's neck. "Let's go there again sometime, yeah?"

While basking in Steven's warmth and the hoodie, Andrew closes his eyes. "For sure."

This time when they fall asleep, they don't wake until morning.

* * *

"Steven, can you pass me the pen?"

"Yeah, sure!"

Steven holds out a pen. Just as Andrew reaches for it, Steven pulls his hand away. Andrew stares. Steven smiles. Andrew swipes for it again. Steven pulls his hand back again. Raising his arm all the way up, Steven uses his height to an advantage. Andrew almost keels over. Not in frustration. But from Steven discovering new ways of being so damned cute. 

_"Steven."_

"What? I'm just trying to give you the pen--" Steven giggles while waving his hand, "--so all you have to do is get it-"

Steven breaks into a fit of laughter as Andrew nearly tackles him. Andrew's arm secures around Steven, so he doesn't fall over. Seizing the chance, Andrew leans up, and grabs the pen. Before Andrew can declare victory, Steven throws his arms around him in a tight hug.

"Love riling you up." Steven grins broadly, then returns to his work.

Andrew's about to do the same. But he catches Adam giving him a knowing look. It's the look Adam wears almost all the time when he's with Andrew and Steven. Andrew can't even scowl at him. Not when Adam has to put up with both of their antics.

With his face still burning, Andrew begins scrawling notes. He doesn't fight the growing smile.

* * *

**( sms: adam )** Hey. I know it's late, so don't feel like you gotta reply to this ASAP. Wanted to let you know that if you wanna talk about your feelings for Steven, I'm here.

 **( sms: adam )** Also you're not going to jeopardize the show, or anything like that. The team wants you both to be happy.

 **( sms: andrew )** Are you a mind reader? Are you friends with my therapist? How do you know these are some of my anxieties?

 **( sms: andrew )** And why aren't you asleep? :(

 **( sms: adam )** I have my ways.

 **( sms: adam )** Sleeping schedule's still weird from our last trip.

 **( sms: adam )** It's cool though. Gives me a chance to marathon Black Mirror with Jonathan <3

 **( sms: andrew )** You guys have souls of steel to watch more than 1 ep in a row

 **( sms: adam )** Thanks lmao We'll take that as a compliment

 **( sms: adam )** And remember how much of a mess I was when I started liking Jonathan? Thought I was going to fuck up Worth It. Jonathan thought he was gonna fuck up The Try Guys.

 **( sms: andrew )** And then Eugene said: "We ain't the Montagues and Capulets."

 **( sms: adam )** Bless that man

 **( sms: andrew )** I'm really happy for Jonathan and you <3 Like seriously, dude.

 **( sms: adam )** Thanks, man. Jonathan says thanks too.

 **( sms: adam )** And that you've got his support.

 **( sms: andrew )** aksjfakhf Thank you :')

 **( sms: andrew )** lol Jonathan knows too?

 **( sms: adam )** Everyone knows

 **( sms: adam )** Except Steven

 **( sms: andrew )** I'll tell him

 **( sms: andrew )** ........someday

 **( sms: andrew )** Before that though...I'm thinking about finally telling Steven more about my history

 **( sms: andrew )** Scared shittless, to be honest.

 **( sms: andrew )** But I feel like it's time.

 **( sms: andrew )** Even if I wasn't romantically interested in Steven, he's still one of my best friends. I don't want to keep these secrets from him anymore.

 **( sms: adam )** I'm proud of you, Andrew. And I respect you for valuing honesty so much.

 **( sms: adam )** But also-- know that you don't owe any of us anything for being your friends. We're always going to have your back.

 **( sms: adam )** If you're going to tell Steven, then do it when it feels right to you.

 **( sms: adam )** You've always deserved to heal and recover at your own pace.

 **( sms: andrew )** Fuck, bro. Thank you.

 **( sms: andrew )** I love you, man

 **( sms: adam )** Love you too. All of us do.

 **( sms: andrew )** I appreciate you reaching out like this. Means a lot.

 **( sms: adam )** Of course :) Try to get some sleep.

 **( sms: andrew )** You too, dude. 'night!

* * *

> The plate set before Andrew is empty.
> 
> _"We need to starve the sin out of you, little love."_ She smiles before taking a bite of chicken. Every second of the meat's savored by her delighted, satisfied hums. _"You understand that we're doing this for your own good, right?"_
> 
> Andrew doesn't take his eyes off the plate. The mere thought of making eye contact with anyone at the table only heightens his anxiety. Barely fifteen. No longer a child, yet not quite a man yet. Andrew tries to play dead opossum. Just like he does when he's at school, church, library, grocery store, or anywhere else in town. If the boy doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't breathe-- then maybe he can be invisible. Maybe he can disappear.
> 
> A heavy hand claps Andrew's shoulder. Andrew clenches his jaw to hold back any sound. Every fibre of his being ignites with tension.
> 
> _"Of course, our dear Andrew understands."_ The calloused, rough hand on Andrew's shoulder tightens. It's intended to be reassuring. Yet pain scorches under the fabric. _"A lamb that strays from the path is not hopeless. He just needs guidance."_ With his other hand, the man raises the chicken leg, and tears his teeth into cooked flesh. _"Don't worry, boy. You'll be made right again in no time."_
> 
> The hand shifts from holding Andrew's shoulder to gripping the back of his neck. Andrew can't breathe. All that moves are his eyes. The boy blinks furiously to fight tears. Maybe this is how it's always been. And how it always will be.
> 
> Caught.
> 
> Trapped.
> 
> No escape.
> 
> The calloused thumb presses in deeper. Tears burn at the edges of Andrew's eyes. The decadent, over-indulgent dinner table, and his own empty plate melt with a gaussian blur.

* * *

_'Do I deserve this?'_

The question circles endlessly in Andrew's mind. He stares at the food before him. Almost not an inch of space remains empty on the table. Along with the KBBQ grill and main entrees, there's seemingly no end of side dishes. Eventually, there's going to be soju bottle after soju bottle. The KBBQ restaurant's lively as ever. People talking and laughing. Music playing in the background. A commotion of uplifted spirits. All around good vibes.

But colors and sounds fade away as anxiety churns in Andrew's stomach. The chopsticks in his hand feel like dead lead weights. He glances up from the table to see his best friends. Shane and Eugene are engaged in a passionate discussion about Jurassic Park. Or maybe they're talking about Carl Sagan? Or a future collaboration? While silently battling anxiety, Andrew doesn't catch much of what they're saying.

But seeing his friends like puppies play-fighting, laughing and lightly shoving each other, remembering that he's with people who are safe and love him-- all of that anchors Andrew in the present. Anxiety quitens. Warmth reignites in his chest. He feels himself smile.

Andrew eats. 

And the food's good.

Really good.

"Goddamnit, Madej." Eugene pushes back against Shane elbowing him. "Can't you be well-behaved like Andrew?"

Shane barks out an incredulous laugh. "Have you seen any Worth It videos? Andrew tried to shove precious lil' Stevie off a cliff! Into the ocean!"

"I'd never actually let him fall," Andrew points out.

"We know." Shane wears one Helluva smug smirk. "Just some innocent pulling on Lim's pigtails, huh?"

Andrew almost coughs while taking a sip of water. For fuck's sake. It's like Ryan and Shane have an uncanny talent for flustering Andrew whenever he's drinking.

"How're you doing?" Eugene locks his gaze on Andrew. "For real."

"Nah, Andrew-- why don't you spin some fancy lies for us?" Shane grins with a wink. "It'll be more interesting."

Eugene 'accidentally' elbows Shane while cooking meat on the open table grill. Shane retaliates by trying to snatch up a piece of beef. Eugene slaps away Shane's chopsticks with the metal tongs.

"It's not done yet." Eugene flips more beef on the grill. "Do not interrupt a man when he's cooking KBBQ for you. Or else _all_ of this soju is mine."

Like the Cheshire Cat, Shane smiles in amusement. "If you keep being mean to me, I'm going to tell _Zach._ "

Eugene scoffs. He keeps his eyes on the grill. "Zach's not going to be upset."

"Oh, we all know that," Shane drawls out. He rests his chin in hand. "But Zach will definitely wanna be on speaker. Just to say how much he loves you and misses you."

"Get him on FaceTime," Andrew adds with a conspiring grin. "Zach will coo over how good his boyfriend looks."

"I didn't even dress up," Eugene protests in exasperation. His waves at himself. "And my hair's barely styled."

"Zach waxed poetic over you being in just a t-shirt and jeans." Shane tilts his drink back. "By that, I mean the countless Instagram and Twitter posts. Zach posts about you as much as he posts about Bowie."

"And we know Zach got you that bandana." Andrew nods at the cloth tied around Eugene's head.

Eugene glowers at the grill. Scarlet takes over his face. Best part is how Shane and Andrew don't even have to do much. Just the mere mentioning of Zach gets Eugene all soft and doe-eyed. When Shane tries to snap a photo, Eugene glares daggers at the last second. Andrew laughs at the spectacle unraveling in front of him.

"Fuck y'all." Eugene sets some meat on their bowls. He bristles like a feral cat, but Eugene will always be a mother hen at heart. After trading the tongs for chopsticks, he gives Andrew a pointed gaze. "But seriously, Andrew-- how're you? Give us the full uncensored version."

"In all of your depressed glory," Shane encourages with a grand sweeping gesture. "We're here for the sadness and existential dread."

The corner of Andrew's lips pull up into a grin. They've deemed themselves the Trifecta of Depression, Nihilism, & Co. It's become something of an inside joke. While eating, Andrew takes a moment to think on Eugene's question. Finally, he answers, "Tired."

"What kind of tired?" Eugene sets a few pieces of kkakdugi on Shane's bowl. Then he nudges the gyeranjjim towards Andrew. "Physically tired? Emotionally tired? Existential tired?"

"All of the above." Andrew refills their glasses. He heaves a breath. "A depressive low's creeping in. So, I'm just bracing myself for it."

"You can reach out to us any time," Shane brings up, his eyes on Andrew. "Text, call, anything. Come chill with Ry and me."

"Andrew, don't fall for that. They'll kill you in a basement," Eugene warns. His chopsticks wave towards himself. "You should hang out with Zach and me."

"Neither of our places have a basement," Shane counters. He smiles as if reminiscing for a moment. " _But--_ if by chance there was a basement, y'know, like in a certain video game, we wouldn't use our own home as a potential crime scene. We ain't no amateur hour."

It's more than just being buzzed that has Andrew laughing. "Thanks for the support, guys. I appreciate it." He rests an elbow on the top edge of his chair. "How have you two been?"

"Ditto on the tired. Of all kinds." Shane throws back another shot, then adds, "Anxiety's kinda flaring. But I'm working through it."

Eugene hums in acknowledgement. "Anything in particular making you anxious?"

"Existing? Being alive?" Laughing at his own punchline, Shane runs a hand through his hair. "Now that I'm finally in therapy, it can get--" He waves vaguely. Ending somewhere between a frustrated sigh and breathless swear. "--emotionally exhausting, y'know? And I worry about putting a strain on Ryan. My friends. My co-workers. So on. Other than when I'm on camera, sometimes I just-" Shane gives a half-shrug. "I can't be as upbeat. Cracking jokes every other second. Stuff like that."

"Shane--" Eugene bumps their shoulders together. "We couldn't be prouder of you for choosing to get help."

"God _damn!_ " Shane slaps the table while grinning broadly. "Color me fucking surprised. Eugene Lee Yang saying he's _proud_ of someone?"

"Before you know it, he's gonna say _'I love you'._ " Andrew smirks into his drink.

"As I said earlier-- fuck y'all," Eugene banters with traces of a smirk. "Shane, I'm so fucking proud of you, _and_ I love you unconditionally, _and_ you're a brilliant, talented, beautiful human being-"

" _Oh, my god,_ Eugene." Shane's caught in a fit of laughter. "Zach's really done a number on you, huh?"

"If you mean helping me unlearn being emotionally repressed, and armoring up as a self-defense mechanism thanks to a questionably detrimental Korean upbringing--" Eugene says in one breath, not once stuttering. He flashes a smile. "--then yeah. He has."

Andrew laughs good-naturedly. He looks over at Shane. "And I feel the same. Proud of you." Andrew gives his own warm smile. His chest swells with admiration. "Even deciding to go into therapy is a huge step."

"Couldn't have done it without you guys." Some exhaustion comes through Shane's voice. He doesn't hold up a strong front around Eugene and Andrew as much. But there's still sincerity in his tone. "You helped me find a therapist that I can actually have a conversation with."

"It's the least we could do, man." Andrew leans forward slightly, gesturing along with his chopsticks. "I remember therapy being really rough in the beginning. Sometimes, it's still rough now. But you don't need to feel pressured to be okay, happy, anything along those lines."

Eugene nods in agreement. "People who truly love you will support you even when you're not at 100%. And is anyone giving you shit? Giving you a hard time?" Vehemently, Eugene stabs at a piece of kimchijeon. " 'cause I'm ready to go _Oldboy_ \-- no, wait- _Sympathy for Lady Vengeance_ on them."

Shane chuckles. "So, you can dress in black, and wear red eyeshadow?"

"Maybe," Eugene answers with faux innocence, then smiles. "But it's also me having your back."

"I'm with Eugene on this one." Andrew tilts his head in thought. " _The Man from Nowhere_ is a good option too."

"Probably take a few notes from _I Saw the Devil._ "

"Alright, alright-- no need to reenact any Korean revenge films yet. Nobody's come after me." Shane grins. "But thanks, guys. Think sometimes I just need a reminder it's okay to not _always_ be okay." Shane looks over at Eugene. "And how're you doing, buddy?"

"I'd say about the same. Things don't feel as heavy all the time. But--" With a shrug, Eugene waves at his head. "Being in love and being loved by that person doesn't erase what goes on up here."

"Does Zach know?"

"That I still struggle with my mental health?" There's a hint of rue to Eugene's grin. "Yeah, he does. Zach sees it most, since we live together. Sometimes, I just-- don't really talk much at home. But he's been amazingly supportive and empathetic." Smiling softly, Eugene shakes his head. "I'm really lucky. It's not something I had growing up."

Andrew's gaze softens. "Gene, it's what you've always deserved."

"Really happy that both of you have each other." Shane gives Eugene's shoulder a squeeze.

"Thanks." Eugene leans into Shane's touch. He doesn't draw away from physical contact as much these days. "And Shane-- same to you with Ryan. You guys doing well?"

"Mmhm."

When Shane doesn't elaborate, and just gets intensely focused on his food, Eugene and Andrew share a look. Eugene nudges Shane with his elbow. Andrew casts his most intense deadpan stare. Sure enough, it gets Shane to break out into a smile.

"Okay, okay--" Shane laughs. After a deep breath, he announces, "I'm gonna ask Ryan to move in with me."

Eugene and Andrew both explode with excitement. Shane laughs some more as Eugene drapes an arm around his shoulders, and Andrew lightly touches his upper arm. Pure, genuine happiness. The emotions are infectious.

"So freaking happy for you, man!" Andrew exclaims with a broad grin. 

"Damn, Madej." Eugene shakes his head in wonder. "Gonna make me cry into my soju."

Shane joins in their laughter, but it trails off a little. "I--" There's uncertainty in his subtly shaky exhale. "I hope he'll say yes. I mean-- if he doesn't, I totally respect that. But yeah, I just-..."

"You guys are gonna be alright," Andrew reassures strongly. "And doesn't he already practically live at your place?"

"Been seeing more of your place than his place when he posts these days," Eugene points out. "I'm sure we'll be seeing Ryan with one of your apartment keys soon."

Shane laughs. "You two will be the first to know how it goes."

Eugene clears off the grill by loading their bowls with meat, then asks a waiter for another serving. While Eugene talks with the waiter, Shane turns his attention to Andrew.

"How're you doing with your feelings for Steven?"

"O...kay?" There's self-assurance to Andrew's words when he talks about food. But he's at a loss when speaking about romance. "I'm confused."

"About what?"

"Uhm-- I-" Andrew blanks out for a few minutes. A flood of memories hit. "He's really kind and wonderful and caring and supportive, and-- and we keep...touching."

Eugene quirks a brow. "Touching as in...?"

"Hugs," Andrew answers. "Back hugs. Resting his head on my shoulder. Him holding my arm. Playing with my hair. Cuddling on the sofa. On flights. Sometimes hotel beds if we have to share. Or if we're at each other's places. And- and--" Covering his burning face, Andrew draws in a deep breath. _"Holding hands."_

Shane stares at Andrew. Then he's staring at Eugene, because of course, Eugene's melting over this. Doe eyes, hands on the side of his face, the whole nine yards.

"But like--" The puzzled inflection returns to Andrew's tone. "Maybe it's just platonic intimacy?"

"It could be." Shane watches Andrew closely. "But is it for you?"

"I- uhm-- I don't know? Like I'm not trying to make any moves on him during those situations. I'd never take advantage of anyone like that. And I've come to accept that I like Steven. No, wait-" Andrew sighs. His shoulders drop. "It's more than that. This isn't just a crush that's going to pass. I'm in love with him." Andrew falls quiet for a moment, so the confession settles in. "But I'm never pushing anything on Steven. It's why usually I let him initiate contact."

While taking this all in, Eugene returns to being level. "Are you comfortable with this?"

Andrew's silent for a few moments while eating and reflecting. He understands his friends' concerns. Eugene and Shane know about his history. Maybe Zach and Ryan know too? Or maybe not. Eugene and Shane aren't the kind to divulge people's private information to their boyfriends, just because they're dating. And of course, Adam was the first to know out of everyone.

But Steven doesn't know anything.

After a long sip of water, Andrew answers, "I trust him. I feel safe with him."

"Good." Eugene nods, and so does Shane. However as Eugene observes Andrew, he sees hesitation flicker in his friend's eyes. "But there's still something on your mind?"

"I--"Andrew bites the inside of his cheek. "During one of our trips, I had sleep paralysis again. Steven woke up to it." His stomach twists and turns. "And Steven being wonderful helped me through it. But I- Fuck--" The swear cuts off in a sharp hiss. "I feel guilty, because I woke him up. It's not the first time. Doubt it'll be the last. I just...I hate burdening him."

After a contemplative moment, Eugene says, "You know that Zach has AS." He goes on after seeing Andrew nod. "I'm not saying that sleep paralysis and AS are the same. And even if you both were going through just one or the other, your experiences would uniquely be your own. But--" Slowly, Eugene takes in a deep breath. "Zach still has nights when he wakes up in pain. It's almost impossible for him to sleep."

Andrew's chest tightens. Shane grimaces. Not only have they all seen Zach's ankylosing spondylitis videos, but they've first-hand witnessed their best friend living with it daily. There's no pity. Only genuine concern and heartache.

"Zach never tries to wake me. But I'm a light sleeper, so I wake up too. And I'm right there with him." Eugene looks Andrew right in the eye. His steadfast gaze doesn't falter in the slightest. " _Never_ have I felt that Zach is a burden. I want to help, even if it's just being together, so he's not alone." Slowly, Eugene reaches out. He makes it apparent that he's about to touch Andrew. When Andrew doesn't tense, Eugene lightly touches his friend's wrist. "Steven isn't burdened by you. I don't say this lightly about people-- but Steven is genuinely _good._ "

"Yeah, for all the ways Ry and I roast that fancy boy," Shane adds, "he honestly has a good heart. I'd even say a heart of gold."

"He does." The anxiety in Andrew's stomach dissipates. His ribcage expands with something warm and fond. But there's still conflicting emotions resonating underneath. And his friends can see it.

"You can tell us, dude."

"That night, I-" Andrew's insides twist again. "I told him--...not to go."

A moment passes.

Shane breaks the silence first. "It's fucking terrifying, isn't it? To tell someone you love to stay."

Even without Shane elaborating, Andrew can tell the man's speaking from personal experience. Same goes for Eugene when he's nodding along.

"Yeah. And it feels- selfish. Like..." Now that Andrew's opened up a little, the whole dam's breaking apart. "I never wanted it to come off as emotional manipulation, or anything like that. I just- I didn't want Steven to feel pressured, y'know? Or god, come off as possessive in a negative way, and- and possibly make things harder by depending too much, and-...."

"Andrew." Shane leans forward slightly. "Who's talking in your head right now?"

Slowly, Andrew's gaze lifts from the table to Shane and Eugene. "People from...back then." At his own answer, something cold runs through his veins. Pure horror. Accompanied by feeling sick. His face strickens with a haunted expression. "How can Steven like me when I'm still so-- _fucked up?_ And if by some chance he felt the same, how can I be a good partner to him?" Andrew laughs while shaking his head. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't be thinking so far ahead."

"We understand." Eugene leans back in his seat, and gestures with his arm. "Think all of us here are notorious for thinking five steps ahead of something that hasn't even happened yet.

"I'd even go far as saying ten steps ahead." Shane nods in agreement with Eugene. "Your concerns are real, Andrew. And damn-- I held back from confessing to Ryan, because of how I felt about my history, and mental illness."

"Same," Eugene admits, arms folding across his chest. "Even pushed Zach away, and hurt him. It's not something I'm proud of."

"We're not trying to make this about us." Shane waves at Eugene and himself. "But it's to show you're not alone in thinking that your past makes you--" Shane tries to think of the right way to phrase it. He ends up repeating what his ex-boyfriend said years ago: "Hard to love."

Andrew's ribcage tightens. A brittle laugh still somehow climbs out. "Hitting the nail right on the head, guys," he remarks with a smile lacking mirth. "I don't want to make things difficult for Steven. But at the same time, I'm thinking about telling him..." Andrew's jaw tightens. "It's what you guys already know. My family. Liam. Yeah." The volume and coherence of Andrew's words fizzle out.

When Andrew glances at Eugene and Shane, they both look damned near murderous. The silent rage isn't directed at Andrew. But the ghosts that still haunt him. It still feels like yesterday when Andrew confided in his best friends.

"Andrew, I'm proud of you." The anger recedes from Shane's eyes. There's only unwavering support and love. "You've got this."

"Remember to be kind to yourself along the way." Eugene softens around the edges. "I doubt it'll happen, since Steven is Steven, but-- if by chance something fucked up happens, let us know."

"I'll build a basement," Shane declares with a broad smile. 

"And I'll bring red eyeshadow."

"Guys--" Laughter eases the heaviness in Andrew's body. His chest already feels a little lighter. "Violence is not the answer."

"But it's an option...?" Eugene sets fresh meat on the scalding grill while not breaking eye contact.

Andrew stares back. Then looks at Shane. "Call Korndiddy."

"Hell yeah!" Shane's already tapping at his phone to FaceTime Zach.

As soon as the call goes through, Zach screams about how perfect his boyfriend is, and Eugene melts into an emotional mess. Andrew joins in Shane's laughter.

Even once they're done with dinner, and outside in the city streets, anxiety still flickers inside. But as Andrew takes in the sight a sky washed in dark indigo, contrasted by neon signs of magenta and green, existing as the backdrop to his best friends smiling and laughing, city lights reflecting in their eyes-- Andrew's hit with a surge of emotions.

He's here.

He's alive.

Maybe this is what healing feels like.

* * *

Tonight, they're over at Steven's place for another movie night. It's like sofas were made for Steven to horizontally sprawl out on. Steven leans his upper body in a sloping angle against Andrew, then stretches his legs over the furniture. Steven holds onto Andrew's arm to drape it over himself. His grasp tightens whether it's being startled by a horror flick, or tearing up during an animated film.

At first, Andrew stays mostly upright. But as Steven sinks until he's laying down, Andrew readjusts his position. Limbs tangle. Steven's back meets Andrew's chest. Sometimes, Andrew buries his face into Steven's neck and shoulder, closes his eyes, and breathes in the familiar, comforting scent. Leaning further back against him, Steven reaches up to play with his blonde hair. Andrew goes anywhere from seconds to minutes missing out on whatever plays onscreen. He never minds. What he cares about most is Steven.

Somewhere halfway through the first movie, they turn the futon sofa into a bed. There's plenty of room for both of them. But Steven clings onto Andrew like a koala. While nuzzling his best friend, Steven's lips brush across skin.

Maybe Steven's just really comfortable with Andrew. Platonic intimacy is underrated, y'know? And if platonic is all that happens between them, Andrew can learn to live with that.

It's probably for the best anyways. Steven's mostly seen the okay parts of Andrew. But Steven hasn't witnessed Andrew's lows during depressive episodes. Nobody has. It's something Andrew tries to keep private, so he doesn't inconvenience anyone else. The man is hardly a functioning human being during those times. He only gets his shit together for work. But it's a nightmare when alone at home.

And like many people around his age, emotional baggage tries to settle down inside, and claim his mind as its own. You can kid yourself into how it doesn't exist, or just quietly resign to accepting it.

But Andrew's trying to work through it. This is the first time he's committing to therapy. Or rather-- the first time Andrew _feels safe enough_ to even _reach out_ for therapy. Mental health support wasn't an option for Andrew while growing up. Not only did his family not believe in mental illness. But they condemned it.

Andrew's recent sessions have been harrowing. Feels like being flayed alive, then thrown into an alcohol bath. To his therapist, Andrew expressed his frustration with the process of recovery taking so fucking long. He doesn't want to keep dragging trauma around like a dead shipyard. All while trying to cross a goddamned desert, and there's no water in sight.

Andrew holds on tighter. As if holding onto Steven _now_ will keep Steven from leaving _later._ But then Andrew's scorched by his own selfishness. He'd never shackle Steven to himself. That's not love. Only Steven can decide to stay. Someday, if Steven chooses to leave, or finds a better co-host, or moves halfway across the world, then Andrew will still support him, care about him, love him.

But Andrew isn't immune to the grief that comes with loss. The thought of a possible end for them seizes Andrew's heart. No more exchanges of bright good mornings. No more soft laughter in his ear. No more brushing of hands. No more groans at silly puns. No more warm smiles that let Andrew know everything will be alright. Now, it feels like Andrew's saying good-bye before anything's even happened.

"Drew?"

The calling of his nickname breaks Andrew's train of thought. He sees Steven watching him worriedly. "Sorry." Andrew loosens the embrace, so it isn't nearly painful. 

"Are you okay?" Steven brushes Andrew's hair back.

With a slow exhale, Andrew leans into Steven's touch. "Yeah, I'm good." Anxiety pulls back like an ocean tide. He gives into the desire of brushing his cheek across Steven's palm. His lips trace over the life line. Or is it the heart line?

"Wanna stay over?" Steven draws in closer. His lips curve into a smile. "I'll make you pancakes tomorrow."

Chuckling, Andrew pokes Steven's side. "You don't have to bribe me with food."

"I'm not!" Steven rests his head on Andrew's chest. Soft silver bangs fall across his forehead. "Keith and Ned got me this Rilakkuma frying pan. It's so cute! But I wanna see if it's any good. The pancakes might actually look like teddy bears. Or not. Thought we could try it out together?" He adds with puppy dog eyes, "And the bed's too big without you."

Andrew tries to pull on his best deadpan. But either the deadpan's getting weaker these days, or Andrew's feelings are getting stronger. Most likely the latter. "Of course, I'll stay." Andrew grins. "And I love a good cooking challenge."

Steven's eyes light up. He squeezes Andrew in a hug. With another chuckle, Andrew holds Steven close. They settle back into watching the film. Half an hour or so goes by, supported by their running commentary and laughter.

Slowly, a thought surfaces in Andrew's mind. The thought takes on the form of an impulse. Then a choice reinforced with conviction. Andrew's heart races faster. Already he's a million times more aware of the mechanics behind breathing. What should be a simple, thoughtless act requires a whole lot more effort. Part of him is tempted to stay silent. It's the safer choice. The easier choice.

But Andrew can't be quiet anymore.

"Hey, Stevie-- would it be alright if we talked?"

Steven looks at Andrew with curious eyes. "Yeah, of course, dude." He reaches for the laptop connected to the tv monitor. "Lemme pause this."

"Actually, maybe just lower the volume a bit? Some background noise might help." Andrew sits up, and leans back against the wall. "If you're okay with that?"

"Totally." Steven dials the volume down. He sits up, facing Andrew with his side leaning on the wall. "I'm listening."

"Okay, so--" Andrew draws a knee up, and rests his forearm over it. Ever since Andrew first got the idea of sharing these truths with Steven, he's been constructing conversations in his mind. Sometimes, they're structured as a thesis paper. Other times, they're passionate as a TedTalk. Now, Andrew realizes he'll be lucky to even say a few lines, and make sense.

Fuck it. Even if it's messy, Andrew has to spit these words out. At least, everything will be honest and real. Andrew looks up to meet Steven's eyes.

"You're someone really important to me. My best friend, my co-host, my partner-in-cheersing. And-- I hope you'll understand why I didn't tell you all of this sooner." Eye contact breaks as Andrew overly studies the rips in his jeans. His fingers wind and unwind and rewind loose threads. "It's not because I don't trust you. I just-- I was- am...scared."

Steven's eyes widen. "Drew--" He moves in a little closer. "I'd never judge you for anything. You're always safe with me." 

Andrew already feels the heat of unshed tears around his eyes. He knows that anxiety's going to be raging up a hurricane during this talk. But Andrew's determined to push through the severe discomfort. "Thanks, Stevie. That means a lot." He draws in a slow breath. "So, you know that I'm gay. But I haven't-" His throat begins to tighten. It's like his body's doing everything in its power to make breathing a challenge. "I haven't told you _how_ I came out." 

Steven holds his hand out. In quiet awe, Andrew wonders how Steven knows what he needs. Andrew lets go of the denim thread, and takes Steven's hand.

"I didn't come out. Not at first." The light dims in Andrew's gaze. Silence drags on while he stares at their clasped hands. "I was outed."

As the words sink in, Steven's eyes widen in horror. "Oh, god-- _Drew-_ " The sharp intake of air almost hurts. But not as much as what Steven feels rupturing inside.

The conversation has barely begun, but Andrew's already blinking back tears. It's a story he's so exhausted of having to live with. It's even more exhausting to retell. But as Steven laces their fingers together, Andrew breathes in deep, and keeps going.

"I knew I was gay really young. But I also knew being gay wasn't-- safe. Not in my community, since-" Hesitation flickers across his face. "-it's a very conservative...very religious community. Including my family."

When Andrew dares to look at Steven, he sees Steven beginning to connect the dots. There's nothing in Steven's expression to show that he's offended. There's only despair and fear. But Steven remains quiet out of respect.

"Just to be clear, I don't have anything against religion," Andrew clarifies quickly. "I respect people practicing any faith."

"As long as they're not doing harm onto others," Steven states with a stern, fierce glare. He closes his eyes, and takes a few seconds to calm down. Anger isn't what his best friend needs right now. With a softer gaze, Steven looks at Andrew. "Keep going, Drew. You're doing great."

Grateful for Steven's encouragement, Andrew nods. "In my community, it was really intense. So, I thought it'd be safest if I came out once I'm in college. But..."

Andrew's gaze tilts downwards. "I had a childhood best friend. Liam." Even saying that name equates to unseen knives digging in deep. Plunging into festering wounds that never healed. "Our parents were friends before we were born. Even our grandparents knew each other." Shaking his head, Andrew laughs quietly. "We grew up doing everything together. Always project partners. Carpooled. Holidays. Practically lived at each other's places. All of that. I--"

Andrew's voice cracks and chokes all at once. Even now, the sutures holding his heart together break apart. He closes his eyes. There's a flash of blonde. Lighter than Andrew's. And bright blues that made Andrew keep his eyes on the ground for years. Because looking up at the sky, and thinking of _him_ was too painful.

"I grew up loving him. And I know he loved me too." It's the last few words that finally break Andrew's voice. "Maybe what happened would've been less painful if we were just two boys with passing crushes. Surface-level feelings. But even if we were young, there was this promise and belief in sharing a future together. It was real."

After a few deep breaths, Andrew opens his eyes. His gaze remains on the flickering images of the subdued film. He understand none of what's playing onscreen. It's reminiscent of how Andrew watched his life fall apart as a kid. All he could do was stand in silence. An ocean of kerosene up to his neck. Everyone around him holding a lit match.

"Just as we got into high school, people started getting suspicious about us. And then-" Andrew's jaw tightens. The movie blurs into abstract shapes and colors. Oxygen burns. Even the sound of his own breathing grates at his ears like dissonance.

"Liam posted on social media that I'm gay. And that I tried _turning_ him gay too." Andrew laughs. Even after all this time, Andrew's still incredulous. "That'd be one heck of a superpower, huh? Going around _making_ people gay." He laughs some more, so that he doesn't give into crying. Delirium masks over heartbreak.

"I--... _what?_ "

It's the first time Steven's spoken up in a few minutes. But he can't hold back the sheer bewilderment. There's a flare of barely suppressed outrage. Steven's always been known for his optimistic, cheerful attitude. But that sure as Hell doesn't mean he doesn't feel anger over injustices. Brown eyes burn with seething fury.

"People don't 'turn' other people into another orientation. And he had _no right_ to out you. Nobody does. Sure as fuck not like that on a public platform." A gauge for Steven's anger is when he begins swearing. And he's downright fucking pissed off right now. Steven holds onto Andrew's hand tighter. "And you'd _never_ coerce or force someone into anything. That's not who you are, Drew."

Finally, Andrew looks over at Steven. "I appreciate hearing that." He tries to hold a smile, but fails as the smile wavers towards the end. "Back then, nobody believed in me."

Andrew's gaze drifts elsewhere. He isn't in Steven's living room. He's back there. In his hometown. In his family home. In his bedroom where every night, Andrew propped a chair up against the wall, backwards, top edge under the door handle. Until the chair was taken away, the hinges were unscrewed, and the door was removed.

"It exploded into this massive mess that got our families and the school involved," Andrew continues wearily. "I was accused of bullying, harassment, whatever they could come up with. The school was trying to suspend me. Even expel me. They were getting so many calls from other parents, claiming that I was a 'distraction', even a 'danger' to other students. When in reality, I just--"

His free hand plays with the loose denim thread again. This time, Andrew winds the dark string around his index finger so tightly that blood circulation cuts off. It hurts, but he doesn't care. "I was the kid who tried finishing classwork fast as possible, so I could read a book. Never raised my hand in class. Always sat off to the side. Walked less used routes in the halls. Did my work. Followed the rules. I was quiet. I was trying to be invisible, because..."

The thread breaks. Andrew lifts his hand to cover his eyes. But it doesn't stop the tear that falls.

"Being invisible was the only way to survive."

Although the words are whispered, they're a sledgehammer crashing into Steven. Leaving something unspeakably painful to resonate inside. He feels as if Andrew described his own educational experience. But Steven keeps those thoughts to himself for now. He's not taking away this chance for Andrew to speak. Steven gives Andrew's hand an encouraging squeeze. Andrew holds his hand back.

"My parents were already divorcing at the time. Neither of them...wanted to keep me." Laughing under his breath, Andrew lowers his hand from his eyes. "I wasn't- I wasn't _even doing anything,_ but still somehow causing everyone around me problems. Making life harder for the people I loved. So, I-..." Andrew's voice trails off.

This is the part during imaginary conversations Andrew always gets stuck on. Same goes for when he talked with other friends in the past.

But even without saying the words out loud, Steven understands. A quiet sob breaks through. "You were never the problem, Andrew." He holds onto Andrew's hand so tightly that it aches. "None of this is your fault."

Andrew casts a small, rueful smile. His other arm wraps around Steven. For a silent moment, they just hold each other. Eventually, Andrew whispers a thank you. Steven curls up closer against him.

"After that incident--" Andrew doesn't even feel the scalding heat of his own tears anymore. "My parents were done with me. I ended up transferring, and living with my aunt and uncle. My family was very determined to 'fix' me. 'Save' me." Andrew holds onto Steven's hand tighter. "They didn't _call_ it 'conversion therapy', but...yeah. Lot of videos. Lectures." He pauses. "Discipline."

The atmosphere grows heavier. Almost suffocating. Especially with the last hollow word. Steven can't fight back the tears anymore. His sobs fill the silence. He only cries harder when Andrew dries his face.

"I'm sorry- I--" Steven's voice chokes. "I shouldn't be crying, this isn't about me, it's about you, I just- Drew, I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that, you never deserved any of it-" 

Even with tears in his eyes, Andrew smiles. "You caring like this means everything." His thumb brushes across Steven's cheekbone to dry another tear. "In the past, people were strongly, openly against me. Or worse-- they _chose_ to be indifferent. Complacent. Neutral. Saying _'it's not my problem._ ' Or _'I don't want to get involved.'_ And in a way, that hurt the most." Andrew's gaze falls. It's hard to breathe with so much metal shrapnel digging into his heart and lungs. "Even people I used to believe were my friends. Or teachers I was close to. When I needed them the most, _they weren't there._ I just-...I wasn't worth it."

Neither of them point out the pun, because it isn't one. It's just a truth Andrew's lived with for so long.

But Steven doesn't see it as the truth.

It's a lie. 

"Andrew--" Steven waits until their eyes meet. "When people let you down, when they don't love you-- that's never a reflection on you. Or a measure of your worth. And especially in a situation like that? _Fuck them._ "

All that frustration that's built up in Steven breaks loose. Anger fuels every tear that falls. "They couldn't risk their own comfort zone to stand with you. They didn't fucking show up when you needed them. And for people to use religion in order to _justify abuse? Homophobia?_ There's nothing about that God would be alright with. You're not a sinner. The people who hurt you are cowards and monsters."

Now, Steven's really bristling. Shoulders shaking. He barely catches his breath from the tirade. "You always have been and always will be worth it. And I-" The raging fire simmers down into a sob. "I'm so grateful that you exist. You matter. And you have every right to love whoever you want."

Coming from Steven, the words lacerate Andrew deeply. Incising mercilessly at his body to remove a horde of parasites. Andrew turns his hand for their fingers to lace together. He doesn't know what to say. So, he starts with: 

"I love you."

"I love you too, Drew. So damned much."

"Haven't heard you swear like this in a while," Andrew remarks with an airy chuckle.

"I have fangs too. And when needed--" Steven grins. "I bite."

Andrew bursts out laughing. "Fuck-- you're adorable." Even with tears brimming his eyes, they're full of warmth and adoration. "Thanks, Stevie," he murmurs, "for being so patient while I work on myself."

"You don't need to thank me for that." Steven runs his thumb over Andrew's hand. "We're all work-in-progresses, y'know?" 

Andrew nods. A quiet thought crosses his mind. "The thing is that even now--" He exhales slowly with a faint, sad smile. "I don't hold it against Liam. I never outed him. Nobody else should go through what I did."

Steven's heart aches. To not hold resentment or grudges in that situation isn't something just anyone can do. The show of character from Andrew deepens Steven's respect and love for him. But Andrew still shouldn't have paid the cost of trauma lasting for a lifetime. "You never should've gone through this either." Steven pushes Andrew's blonde hair back. "You deserved none of that."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Andrew leans into Steven's touch. He doesn't know how to respond. Their mutual best friends have said similar things. Hopefully over time, Andrew will learn to accept and believe in such words.

"Are you..." Andrew opens his eyes. He draws in a deep breath. "Are you still okay with me?"

Steven's gaze widen. As if his heart wasn't already breaking, it shatters even more. "Drew-" Steven draws in closer until he ends up in Andrew's lap, taking the man's face into his hands. "This doesn't change how I see or feel about you. You're the strongest, bravest, kindest person I know. I love you." Steven rests their foreheads together. "Stay with me. Okay?"

Andrew tries to talk, but fails to find his voice. Instead his face buries into Steven's neck and shoulder. Steven holds onto him tighter. His fingers trace the curve of Andrew's shoulder blade, then circles on his back.

"When I was a kid, and I woke up in the hospital after the-- failed attempt-" Andrew's voice cracks. He holds onto Steven tighter. "I didn't understand why I was still alive. Even now, I don't know. But--" Andrew lifts his head, and looks at Steven. "I'm grateful to have lived long enough to meet you."

Steven stares. He tries to stifle sobs with the back of his hand, but it's futile. Steven returns the embrace, fingers curling into Andrew's shirt.

"I love you so much, Drew."

"Love you, too. Endlessly."

When Steven's hand brushes over his stomach, Andrew lets out a slow breath. He's exhausted from what he's already dug up and shared. But there's still one more thing Andrew needs to say tonight.

"Thanks for bringing me onto Worth It."

"I should be thanking you." Steven guides Andrew's hand away from the denim threads, and laces their fingers together. "I wouldn't be able to do Worth It without you. And everyone on our team loves you so much."

Andrew fights back tears. He feels Steven's thumb massaging his aching fingers. "To be honest, I was really nervous and anxious about being on the show. I've...had trouble eating growing up. One of the ways my family tried to-- 'help' me was by restricting my meals."

In cold horror, Steven stares. "They starved you...?" More tears well in Steven's eyes when Andrew nods.

"I guess, somewhere along the way, not eating associated with anxiety. Or just-- a form of self-discipline? Like even now, if I don't feel like I performed well as I should've in a pitch meeting, or fell short of a project goal-- I just- I don't eat. But I'm working on it."

Andrew takes a second to regain what little of his composure remains. But then he changes his mind. Tonight, he decides to lean into vulnerability. If there are tears that insist on falling, then he's going to let them fall.

"Worth It, our team, _you--_ all of that made me want to let myself love food again." Andrew laughs. It sounds a little fragile, a little shaky, but it's wholly pure and warm. "Along the way, I started remembering what joy feels like too." He holds onto Steven's hand tighter. "So-- thank you."

Steven takes Andrew's face into his hands. There's a stutter in Andrew's breathing. Steven rests their foreheads together.

"I should be thanking you, Drew."

"For what?" Shaking his head, Andrew tries to protest, "I haven't done anyth-"

"Thank you for staying alive."

Any expression on Andrew's face wipes blank. By the time he buries his face into Steven's neck and shoulder, the first of many sobs break through. It's ugly, loud and painful. Pent up longer than either of them can know. Each sob wracks Andrew's body. He's falling apart, coming undone, unraveling-- and Steven is still here to hold him. They lay down. Staying close, knowing all they have is each other as Pompeii erupts, and there's no outrunning this pain.

Steven says those three words over and over. Some claim that those words said too often. But for Andrew who wasn't told, _"I love you"_ as much as he deserved while growing up-- Steven will say it endlessly now. Slowly, Andrew's breathing evens out a little more.

"If you wanna know, there's more things I can share," Andrew brings up quietly. "But-- maybe another night?" He trails off with a laugh. 

"You did amazing by telling me all of this. Whenever you wanna talk more, I'll listen." Steven dries Andrew's tears, then smiles warmly. "I'm proud of you, Drew."

It's hard for Andrew to not smile back. "Thank you."

"Of course, dude." For a while, Steven keeps cuddling Andrew, and playing with his hair. When he feels Andrew relax, Steven asks, "Wanna change into something comfortable for bed?"

"You already sleepy, old man?" Andrew teases with a hint of playfulness. He checks the time on his phone. "Hardly past midnight yet."

"Old man?! We're the same age!" Steven exclaims with a huff. "And maybe I just don't wanna be in jeans for rest of the night. C'mon." He takes Andrew's hand to pull him onto his feet.

With a grin, Andrew stands up, and follows Steven into the bedroom. There's always some of Andrew's spare clothes here, since he's over at Steven's place often. Likewise some of Steven's clothes live at Andrew's apartment. Before Andrew digs around for a shirt, Steven passes over a flannel. 

Andrew slips it on. "Thanks." He laughs as Steven closes the buttons, and leaves the few top ones undone. "You don't wanna wear it tonight?"

"Always looked better on you," Steven quips back.

Steven flails around as he pulls off his sweater. He stands with his back to Andrew while digging around for something to wear. Andrew's gaze lingers. It's absolutely breathtaking how beautiful Steven is.

But his eyes dwell for another reason. They trace over glimpses of scars. What begins as sparse scattering of scar tissue at Steven's sides grow in number towards his hips, creeping down into his waistband. Maybe the severity of lines on Steven's upper arms and shoulders are reflected under his jeans as well.

Andrew's heart aches as Steven goes into the bathroom. Steven's willing to be shirtless around Andrew, but he doesn't reveal anything below the waist. Andrew respects Steven's privacy. They haven't spoken about Steven's history of self-harm. Andrew's made it clear that Steven can share anything with him. But he's not going to forcefully pry this out of his best friend.

When Steven returns changed, Andrew's done dressing as well. Steven's in an overlarge, soft gray long-sleeve. The sight of Steven beaming makes Andrew's chest burn a little more.

Fuck.

He's so in love with this man.

Andrew follows the sound of Steven's laughter like the North Star in the dark. He's in awe of how his love for Steven keeps growing.

Approaching the bed, Steven declares, "We need more blankets!"

Fondly, Andrew watches Steven gather all the blankets, and carry them out of the bedroom. There's a mass of fabric in front of his face. Andrew helps by making sure Steven doesn't walk into a wall. By the time they settle back on the futon bed, Netflix is already playing the next queued film.

Their bodies gravitate towards each other. After the emotionally intense conversation, Andrew feels drained-- but surprisingly in a good way. He melts as Steven pulls him into his arms.

"You know how I say I'm going to keep you safe?" Steven whispers, words carrying through the space between them. "I mean it. I don't care who I have to fight. Nobody is ever going to hurt you. And I know all of our friends will fight just as hard for you."

The edges of Andrew's eyes burn. Andrew thought he already shed all of his tears. But Steven keeps surprising him. Andrew drapes an arm over Steven, drawing him in closer. His fingers barely brush over scar tissue at Steven's hips. Out of respect, Andrew shifts his hand upwards.

"I'll do the same for you. For all of us." Andrew's fingers curl into Steven's shirt. "C'mere."

Steven moves in until he's curled up against Andrew. He burrows into Andrew's warmth. Andrew tries not to jostle Steven around too much as he turns off the movie. The sounds of Los Angeles sing through the silence. Rush of vehicles. Occasional car horn. Spontaneous shouts. Planes rushing through the skies. Scattered laughter. The city's lively at night as it is during the day. It's chaotic white noise they've both grown used to.

Steven still feels the subtle tension in his best friend. He massages Andrew's arms in hopes of easing his anxiety. "Drew, you can sleep."

"Might have...y'know. Another episode," Andrew admits tiredly. "I don't want to wake you."

"Ask me what I want."

Andrew blinks. He pauses, then asks, "What do you want?"

"I want to be here with you." Steven's smile lights up those words. "Through the good, the storms, all of it."

Andrew breathes in the words, and holds Steven tight. "You'll be here when I wake?"

"Mmhm." Even the dark can't take warmth away from Steven's voice. "I promise."

They listen to LA's wild symphony and each other's breathing. Steven falls asleep first. For Andrew, he considers staying awake through the night. But when Steven draws their clasped hands closer, and presses his lips against Andrew's knuckles, giving kindness even in his sleep-- something inside of Andrew finally surrenders. A few more silent tears escape.

Not in pain. Not in fear. Not in heartache.

But in love.

Tonight, fear doesn't win.

Andrew lets himself sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SUPPORT BLACK LIVES MATTERS:**  
>  – [blacklivesmatters.carrd.co](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/)  
> – [cosresources.carrd.co](https://cosresources.carrd.co/) (Includes TTG, Watcher, etc. resource links)  
> \- Updates on the CoS BLM Support Goal: (07.07.20) We did it! :D Congrats, everyone! Thank you for helping us meet the goal ♡
> 
> I planned my AO3 comeback for June 1st in celebration of Pride Month. However I delayed this fic release, so focus during that time remained on Black Lives Matters, and justice for George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and many more. As an Asian-American ally, my heart goes out to the Black community. Engaging in the fight for justice and equality will always be most important. The LGBTQ+ community wouldn't exist without Marsha P. Johnson, Stormé DeLarverie and Sylvia Rivera. Pride began as a fight against inequality. We must all stand with and fight for BLM.
> 
> I'm proud to be a fan and writer of TTG, BFU, Watcher and WI. These guys have earned my infinite respect. They're actively using platforms to engage in BLM-- donating, providing resources links, amplifying, speaking out, sharing their protest experiences, utilizing social media for BLM, etc. Please visit the links shared above for more resources.
> 
> All chapters posted at once! Thank you for reading my work. However I'm asking you to please support BLM first, foremost, always, today, tomorrow, everyday. Keep fighting. Keep speaking out. Stay safe and take care of yourselves ♡♡
> 
> – Fic title from ['Truce' - Twenty One Pilots](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eCeBNwBUkcI) \+ ['Trees' - Twenty One Pilots](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygO2lz3XeSU&feature=youtu.be&t=95)  
> \- Series title from ['Iris' - Goo Goo Dolls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUbJQGqFoi0) \+ ['Run' - Snow Patrol](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ANYENrO5Ct8)
> 
> [ Disclaimer: This is 100% a work of fiction. No association with the real Andrew Ilnyckyj, Steven Lim, Adam Bianchi, Eugene Lee Yang, Zach Kornfeld, Ned Fulmer, Keith Habersberger, Jonathan Kirk, Ryan Bergara, Shane Madej, and other mentioned individuals. ]


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mental health, anxiety, depression, past abuse, past eating disorder, past self-harm, past suicide attempt, homophobia, racism, alcohol
> 
> \-- Ryan and Shane: [in the darkness, would you call in the name of love? ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655962)
> 
> \-- Zach, Eugene, Keith and Ned: [i'll take your hand when thunder roars. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696462)
> 
> **Please do not share this with Worth It, Watcher, The Try Guys, Buzzfeed Unsolved, or any other RPF individuals. This is not for them to read. Thank you!

Warm. Soft. Safe. That's what Steven feels as he slowly stirs awake. Blinking through the heavy cloud of sleep, Steven opens his eyes. He wakes to a familiar sight: Andrew sleeping beside him. 

Rays of golden sunlight cast on Andrew, giving him a soft glow. When he's asleep, the subtle creases of worry and anxiety are gone. Their bodies lay close. Steven melts at being kept in a protective embrace even while Andrew's sleeping.

The urge to kiss Andrew is strong. Even something chaste like brushing his lips against the man's forehead. Steven marvels at how he hasn't slipped up yet, and given into the temptation of kissing Andrew's cheek. A quick, light peck. Right against the lovely dimple that appears when Andrew grins. Steven likes to imagine it would make Andrew smile a little more. Make him a little happier.

And that's all Steven wants for Andrew. Heartache resonates in his chest at the memory of last night. Steven can't imagine what it must've been like for Andrew to carry those secrets for so long. And for Andrew to live through those traumatic experiences. There was no mentioning of any reconciliation or closure. Now, it makes sense why Andrew never speaks of his family, and stays in LA during the holidays. Andrew's always been part of the Friendsgiving crew-- some of their friends can't fly back home, while others don't have a home to fly back to.

Steven draws in a little closer. His ribcage aches with the swell of emotion inside. There's a rippling undercurrent of anger towards those who hurt Andrew, and those who chose to do nothing. That anger channels into fierce protectiveness. Steven knows that Andrew doesn't need anyone else to save him. But god forbid anyone ever again fuck with Andrew again.

Careful not to wake Andrew, Steven slips out of bed. It's the weekend, so Andrew should sleep in. He deserves all the rest he can get. Before walking away, Steven brushes a few stray blonde strands away from Andrew's face.

"I love you," Steven whispers softly. He's lost count of how many times he's said those words while Andrew's asleep.

When will he say those words when Andrew's awake?

The question echoes while Steven goes through his morning routine. Once he's in the kitchen, Steven ties on an apron. It's a simple black apron with an adorable white cat on the front. Steven gets to work on making pancakes batter. With an amused grin, Steven puts the new Rilakkuma frying pan to use. The first pancake turns out surprisingly well. Steven laughs in delight.

Strong arms circle around him from behind. Steven giggles as Andrew's face buries into his neck and shoulder. He leans back against his best friend. "Good morning!" Steven chimes cheerfully.

"G'morning." Andrew nuzzles Steven with endless affection. His voice runs rough from still being half-asleep. Some of his blonde locks are in odd, messy angles. Andrew rests his chin on Steven's shoulder. He watches Steven cook, then sets his attention on the growing stack of pancakes. They don't look like amorphous creations, but actually retain bear shapes. "That's beary cute."

Steven throws his head back to laugh. "You're not even fully awake, and already throwing out puns?"

"Mmhm." Andrew nuzzles Steven some more. "You'll just have to bear with me."

"Drew!" Steven falls into another fit of giggles.

Smiling, Andrew tightens the embrace. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah. It wasn't cold at all last night." Steven gently nudges Andrew's head. "What about you?"

"Best sleep I've had in a while."

Steven's gaze softens. Their cheeks brush. "I'm so happy to hear that."

"It's thanks to you." Andrew takes hold of Steven's hand on the frying pan handle. He jostles the pan around.

"Can you flip it?" Steven asks with a boyish grin.

Andrew laughs. "Can't say I've ever flipped this kind of pan before. But let's give it a shot, yeah?" Andrew's other hand rests on Steven's hip to hold him steady. "Okay, 1-2-3!"

Together, they toss the pancake in the air, then catch it perfectly in the pan. The kitchen fills with an explosion of excitement.

"Oh, my gosh!" Steven turns to face Andrew. He throws his arms around Andrew's shoulders. "That was awesome!"

Andrew chuckles warmly. "It sure was, huh?"

While Steven's busy hugging him, Andrew takes over making breakfast. Eventually, they switch places, so that Steven's standing behind Andrew. Steven helps tie an apron on him. The background fills with a shared playlist from Steven's phone. One of their favorite tracks plays. Just a few notes into 'Iris' by Goo Goo Dolls, and Andrew's already singing along. Steven smiles against his shoulder, humming with Andrew and the melody.

* * *

**( sms: steven )** KEITH!!! NED!!! thank you for the adorable frying pan! quq <3 

**( sms: steven )** [ 1 img sent: two plates of teddy bear-shaped pancakes doused in syrup ]

 **( sms: keith )** JNSJXISJS!!!!!!!!!!! :D SO CUTE!!!!!!

 **( sms: ned )** YAY!!! :) :) :) We're happy you like it!

 **( sms: shane )** Where's the gold, fancy boy? Ain't seeing any in this picture

 **( sms: ryan )** Truffles? Diamonds? Ben Franklins scattered on the table? 

**( sms: steven )** i have something better than all of that /u\ <3

 **( sms: steven )** [ 1 img sent: candid shot of Andrew, view of his profile as he looks out the window, smiling into a cup of coffee, blonde hair lit by daylight ]

 **( sms: zach )** <3 <3 <3 !!!!!!!!!!

 **( sms: zach )** and congrats-- you made gene into a melting emotional mess this early lol

 **( sms: eugene )** Fuck

 **( sms: eugene )** My heart hurts. My crops are thriving. Y'all gave me back ten years of my life.

 **( sms: jonathan )** Isn't that Steven's flannel

 **( sms: adam )** Yep. It sure is.

 **( sms: andrew )** Stevie dihwisidje When did you take this???? 

**( sms: steven )** you looked really good with the sun in your hair uwu <3 <3 <3 i just had to

Laughing, Steven watches the group chat explode with messages. Some are just keyboard smashing and/or emojis. He looks up to see Andrew blushing. Scarlet runs down his neck. With a grin, Steven pokes at his cheek. Sure enough, a dimple forms as Andrew grins. Steven moves in closer to hug him.

"I can feel it, Drew."

"Feel what?"

Steven looks at Andrew. His eyes are bright as the sunlight pouring through the windows. "Today's gonna be a good day."

"Yeah." Andrew turns his head to smile against Steven's shoulder. "I feel it too."

* * *

Days go by. They travel more. Shoot more. Edit more. Upload more. It's an ongoing hurricane of activity. But the Worth It team's good about keeping each other afloat. Today is one of those days when the team's working in-office.

Steven instinctively tenses to counter a shudder. His fingers curl while hovering over the keyboard. It's rare for Steven to wake up late. But a dream about Andrew got the best of him this morning. In his sleep, Steven saw glimpses of sharing a domestic life, moments of Andrew being happy and safe. While in a rush to get to work on time, Steven forgot to grab a jacket, hoodie, sweater, any kind of warm outerwear. Now, he's fighting back the cold in a short-sleeved t-shirt.

Something soft drapes around Steven's shoulders. At first, he melts into the warmth. Then Steven's overwhelmed by the familiar scent. He glances down at the olive bomber jacket. Steven beams at the sight of Andrew. "Drew!" He leans into the touch of Andrew's hands on his shoulders. "Won't you be cold?"

"No, I'm good." Andrew chuckles. "Y'know that I run on high temperature."

"Yeah, you're a walking space heater." Steven laughs as Andrew playfully shoves him.

With a smile, Steven slides his arms into the sleeves. Although Steven's taller by a few inches, Andrew has a broader build. The jacket drowns Steven, and even leaves him with sleeve paws. "Thanks, dude! I'll give it back before we go home."

"Yeah, no problem." Andrew fixes Steven's collar, and straightens out the jacket. "If you need anything else, just let me know, okay?"

"Mmkay! I appreciate it." Steven returns his smile. "You heading into the meeting now? Presentation, right?"

Andrew exhales slowly with a nod. "Yeah."

Gently, Steven touches the inside of Andrew's wrist. "You've got this, dude. You're gonna be freaking awesome!"

The enthusiasm earns Andrew's laughter. "Thanks, Stevie. I'll see you later."

While Andrew goes into the meeting, Steven and Adam work together. They run over footage, and logistics for an upcoming shoot. Halfway through, Adam stares at Steven's jacket.

"Is that Andrew's?"

"Yeah!" Steven flaps a sleeve around. "He's letting me borrow it."

Adam stares for a moment longer. "You two are good for each other."

Steven blinks, a puzzled expression surfacing. "What?" 

But Adam's attention already back on the screen.

Steven huffs. "Adam, Adam, Adam-" He pokes at the man repeatedly. "Aaaadam-"

Apparently, Steven's methods of persuasion only work on Andrew. Adam just swats away his sleeve paw, and tells Steven to focus on the footage. Steven rests an elbow on the desk, holding a sleeve against his face. It does little to hide Steven's joy when his smile shows through his eyes. Once they finished bulk of the work, Adam nudges Steven with his elbow. 

"Hey." Adam pulls off his headphones. "Wanna take a break, and grab some coffee?"

"Yeah!"

Steven and Adam head towards a local cafe that's an office favorite. With the cafe only few blocks away, it's within walking distance. It's a clear day when the LA sun isn't blazing hot for once. There's even a breeze going through the streets.

"So--" Adam starts off. His gaze remains straight ahead, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. "Andrew told me you two talked."

Brows raising, Steven glances over. "You knew?" he asks in quiet surprise. "I mean...about what Andrew's been through?"

Adam gives a nod. "Yeah." He hits the intersection crosswalk's button. The quiet that follows is Adam encouraging Steven to share his thoughts.

"I'm proud of him for sharing his story." Steven's fingers curl at the ends of his jacket sleeves. "Can't imagine how hard it must've been for him. I'm grateful that Andrew talked with me. And of course, it's totally fine that he chose now. People should share these stories only if and when they want to. But I-..." There's a flickering moment of hesitation. "Did Andrew feel like he couldn't tell me for a while, because of my religious background?"

While reflecting on the question, Adam remains silent. The lights change. They start crossing the intersection. "I can't say for sure," Adam answers. "But what I know is that Andrew's afraid of burdening you."

"What?! No way, dude!" Steven exclaims. He falls in stride with Adam. "I want to be here for Drew. And all of our other friends."

Adam casts a small smile. "I know." He holds the cafe door open. "Sad thing is that not everyone is like you."

After thanking Adam for opening the door, Steven walks in. They wait in line while Steven dwells on Adam's words. Steven grimaces at the thought of Andrew's loved ones and community turning against him. Something acerbic lingers in the back of throat, burning all the way down to his stomach. Steven's fingers curl tighter at the end of his sleeves.

They give their orders, along with extra orders for Andrew and Jonathan. Adam and Steven wait by standing off to the side.

"I know this might sound weird, but fuck it-" Adam waves a hand. "What I really want to say is thanks for standing by Andrew. I don't know what would've happened if he lost you too. You're really important to him, Steven. I'm not trying to put pressure on you, but--" Another vague gesture. "Yeah."

Steven gently nudges their shoulders together. "Dude, you don't have to thank me for that. But I'm glad you have his back too."

Chuckling quietly, Adam gives an easy smile. "Got both of your backs."

Once their names are announced, they thank the barista, and leave with drinks. In one hand, Steven carefully holds Andrew's black coffee. The other hand carries his iced matcha green tea latte. While sipping on the straw, a thought slowly rises.

"I- uhm-" Steven gnaws nervously at the straw. "I was close to telling Andrew how I feel about him that night. But I didn't feel like it was the right time.

"That's understandable." Adam takes a measured drink of his coffee. "When do you think you'll tell him?"

"Not sure. I just...I don't wanna make things harder for him, y'know?"

Adam's silent for so long that Steven wonders if he spoke too softly. But when Steven looks over, he sees Adam wearing a pensive expression.

"At the end of the day, you should decide to do what _you_ think is right. But--" Adam looks at Steven. "Don't wait too long, yeah?"

Steven draws in a slow breath. "Thanks, dude. I'll think on it." He glances over to see Adam holding Jonathan's drink with more care than his own. With a boyish grin, Steven asks, "So, how're Jonathan and you doing?" His grin grows even more when seeing Adam smile to himself. 

"We're doing well," Adam answers, and he leaves it at that. The warmth in his eyes says the rest.

"I'm happy for you guys." Steven almost tears up. He doubts he'll stop being emotional over Adam and Jonathan. Or any of their friends, for that matter.

When they return to office, Steven sees Adam approach Jonathan's desk. Adam passes the drink over to his boyfriend. Jonathan thanks him with a warm smile. They exchange a few soft words and gazes. All of that melts Steven's heart.

Steven seeks out Andrew's desk. He finds Andrew typing away at his laptop. When Steven sets the drink down, Andrew's blinks in surprise. He looks up to smile at the sight of Steven.

"Thanks, dude." Andrew pulls off the headphones, and takes the cup of coffee. "How'd you know I needed this?"

Grinning, Steven shrugs a shoulder. "Co-host's intuition?" he replies with a laugh. Steven leans against the edge of Andrew's desk. "Did the presentation go well?"

"Yeah. It went better than I expected." Andrew lets out a sigh of relief. "Thanks for looking over those slides the other day. Helped a lot to have your eye on it."

"Of course, man! I knew you'd do awesome. We should celebrate!" Steven beams brightly. "Wanna come over Friday? I'll cook for you."

Eyes softening, Andrew returns Steve's smile. "Yeah, I'd be down." He shifts slightly in his chair, running a hand through his blonde hair. "I have an errand to run after work that day. But I can be at your place once I'm done. It won't take too long."

"Perfect!" Steven leans a little more towards Andrew. "What're you in the mood for?"

"That pasta you made last time was really good." 

_"Really good?"_ Steven repeats with a challenging grin. He tilts his head. "Just that? No detailed description?"

Andrew scoffs while bringing the coffee to his lips. But there's still a hint of a smile. "I'll give you Worth It-level feedback on Friday."

"Looking forward to it." Steven can't stop smiling. He feels a gravitational pull towards Andrew. But Steven exercises self-control and draws back. "Okay, I'll let you get back to work-"

Andrew catches his sleeve. Steven blinks. He watches Andrew's face grow more heated by the second.

"I just wanted to say that--" Andrew's gaze flickers up to meet Steven's. "You look-...good in this. The jacket. Yeah."

"Well, yeah," Steven answers with a fond grin. "It's yours, after all."

He exchanges another smile with Andrew before returning to his own desk. While sipping on his drink, Steven cracks down on work. Later, Steven heads into the printer/copier room. He stands by one of the machines churning out some prints. Steven picks a few pages up, and looks them over.

"Date night with Ilnyckyj?"

Startled by the sudden voice, Steven turns around. He looks up at a very amused Shane. Biting slightly at the inside of his cheek, Steven holds the papers to his chest. "You know it's not that."

Shane's one of the few who concretedly knows that Steven likes Andrew. It easily could've been more people knowing, thanks to an office party where drunk Steven was revealing a little too much. Luckily, Shane was there to steer Steven towards the outdoor balcony, and shove water into his hands. All while listening to Steven ramble about how much he loves Andrew. For someone passionate about roasting Steven online or offline, Shane's still a good friend.

"You could make it a date," Shane points out gently. 

"But what if..." Steven's voice trails off with uncertainty. "What if he doesn't feel the same?"

"Then at least you'll know." Shane gives an encouraging smile. "Better to know than not know."

"Why can't you have that mindset for Unsolved True Crime? Instead you're always saying shit like _'Let the mystery stay a mystery.'_ "

They around to see Ryan. After closing the door behind him, Ryan saunters up to Shane. He looks up with arms folded across his chest. There's a challenge in his eyes. Both of them barely hold back grins.

"Makes things more interesting, doesn't it?" Shane quips back. Now smirking, Shane's fingers catch on belt loops to tug Ryan in closer.

"Uh--" Steven gathers more of his papers. "Are you guys gonna-"

"Fuck?" Ryan asks, glancing over at him.

"What?!" Steven squeaks, eyes going wide. The cluster of papers almost fall out of his hands. "I- I was gonna say like-- make out or something like that..."

"Oh, I'm not opposed to that idea." Ryan wraps his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders. "I might've sent a print job to the slowest machine we have."

"You mean this ancient beast from the Prehistoric Ages?" Shane nods over at the dull gray printer/copier right behind him. "What a coincidence, huh? 'cause I got some prints coming from that one too."

"Wouldn't mind being kept busy while waiting." Ryan tilts his face up for a kiss.

"Think I can help with that." With a grin, Shane circles an arm around Ryan. The other hand rests on Ryan's hip. Shane leans down. But instead of heatedly making out, Shane showers Ryan with light kisses.

 _"Shane!"_ Ryan wheezes between laughter. "Oh, my god, you jackass, I fucking love you-" Finally, Ryan catches Shane's lips in a kiss. They both smile into it.

Steven clutches the print outs to his chest. He's always been weak for seeing his friends happy like this. Steven inches towards the door, so he can give them privacy. Just as Steven's about to leave, Ryan calls for him. 

"Stevie, tell Andrew how you feel." Ryan leans back against Shane, being held comfortably. "C'mon. Make us proud."

"You've got this, dude." Grinning, Shane kisses his boyfriend's temple. "Although we might have ulterior intentions. Ry and I are ready to take another couple down in Sims."

"Thanks, guys." Steven laughs. He's always endeared by Shane and Ryan's unique, creative ways of expressing support. "And by the way, about the game-" He opens the door, glancing over his shoulder. "Worth It and The Try Guys are thinking of creating an alliance against Unsolved."

Steven walks out, smiling to himself at sounds of shocked commotion.

* * *

_"What's the weather like there right now? Hot? Cold? Should we bring any long-sleeves?"_

"Uhmmm-- maybe bring a light jacket?" With the phone balanced on his shoulder, and arms full of groceries, Steven fumbles with unlocking the front door. In hindsight, he should've put in AirPods, or at least wire earbuds. "It gets colder after the sun goes down."

_"Oh, perfect! Also are you sure you want to pick us up? It's fine if we take a Lyft from the airport."_

Steven laughs in reassurance. "Yeah, Mom. It's no problem." The phone and groceries set down on the kitchen counter. Steven switches the call to speaker, then starts unpacking the bags. "I don't think traffic should be too bad during that time. But I'll give you a heads up if there's a delay."

 _"Thank you so much! We're so excited to see you. And Steven, honey--"_ A thoughtful hum fills the momentary pause. _"Any chance we'll get to meet a nice lovely girl this time around? You need to start considering marriage."_

Steven's eyes widen. "Uhmm..." Too many things go off at once in his mind. Such as the glaring reminder that he's still closet to his family. Then being bewildered, because _what the heck?_ He's not thinking about getting married any time soon. Followed by his eyes widening even more. When Steven thinks of introducing his family to a potential partner, _Andrew_ flashes in his mind. Andrew sitting beside him at a dinner table, smiling and holding Steven's hand.

"Mom, I'm not dating anyone right now," Steven fumbles out an answer. It's the same thing he's said the past hundred times they've had this conversation. "Just focusing on work."

 _"Oh, sweetie."_ She sighs over the phone. Her exasperation can be felt even from miles away. _"You know how proud I am that you're working so hard. I'm not trying to pressure you-- but you need to start thinking about your future."_

"I _am_ thinking about my future," Steven tries to reason. He wants to explain how he's always thinking about ways to improve Worth It, possible new shows to develop, supporting other creators with their projects, and more. While processing how to articulate this in a way that his mother will understand, she jumps onto another tangent.

_"If you won't bring a nice girl to dinner, then how about that good friend of yours? What a sweetheart. He was so well-mannered. And even smart."_

Steven's brows knit together. He doesn't understand why there's a tone of awe in the last few words. As if to imply that whoever this person is normally wouldn't be perceived as polite and intelligent? "Do you mean..." Steven sifts through memories to recall which of his friends have met his family. Even if only very briefly.

_"The one with that impossible last name to pronounce."_

Steven stops in midst of opening a kitchen cabinet. "--Ilnyckyj? You mean Andrew Ilnyckyj?"

 _"Oh, right! Andrew! Is he still gay?"_ his mother asks curiously. _"I'm surprised that he hasn't grown out of it yet. He's such a kind, brilliant, handsome young man. It would be a waste if he stays gay."_

Everything drowns out in white static. All other sounds fade away except for his mother's words. Playing on repeat. She's even talking to him in English, so there's no excuse of things being lost in translation.

Steven rests a hand on the counter to brace himself. He lets out a slow breath. People hold the false assumption that Steven's incapable of anger. Even his own family. Steven's known for being optimistic, for being cheerful, for giving out good vibes, and whatever else people say about him. But he's not void of negative emotions. It just takes a Hell lot for Steven to get angry.

And nothing crosses the line like homophobia directed towards Andrew. Or anyone else.

"There's _nothing wrong_ with being gay," Steven states strongly. His tone grows more vehement by the second. "Mom, it's not something to grow out of. It's not a phase. Being gay isn't detrimental to a person's character."

_"Detri-what?"_

Steven closes his eyes to take a deep breath. _Fuck._ Now, he's frustrated at himself for this language barrier. His level of Mandarin Chinese is elementary. Maybe middle school level if he's lucky. Continuing in English, Steven rephrases, "Being gay doesn't make anyone a bad person. Including Andrew." A strained note enters Steven's voice as his heart aches. "Andrew is one of the best people I know, Mom. And I hope you can see that too."

 _"Oh, goodness, sweetie! There's no need to get so defensive. I'm just sharing my thoughts."_ Her laughter is light and airy. To Steven's ears in this context, it sounds flippant. _"I have nothing against Andrew. Mmm-- it's just a pity, you know? Actually, your father and I were talking about this today. White people give their children names from The Word, but so many of them grow up wrong and ill. Bless the souls of their poor parents. How disappointing."_

Brutal radio static roars louder in Steven's ears. He doesn't even know where to start with dissecting all of that, and pointing out the errors. The racism? The homophobia? Steven has a hundred-page argument ready to fire. But that comprehensive mental essay is in _English._ His insides turn volatile as he hits an invisible wall. Steven's mind lags while struggling to translate what he normally would say into a far simplified version of English, so he can communicate with his mother.

But as an afterthought, his mother adds, _"Same goes for Koreans. Even the ones who aren't blessed with holy names. Your friend Edwin."_

Steven nearly recoils from that. "Edwin? Who's Edwin?"

_"Fancy hair. Dark skin. He's around your height. Little older than you?"_

A few seconds pass as Steven goes through filing cabinets in his brain. "You mean _Eugene?_ "

_"Yes! Eugene. But it's not surprising he's gay. My goodness, just look at K-pop."_

"What do you mean _'look at K-pop'?_ Why would you even specify Koreans in the first place? Or any Asians at all?" Despite his best attempts to remain calm, there's an edge of hysteria entering Steven's voice. "And-" His mind backtracks. Steven repeats, "Dark skin?"

_"I know, right? Usually don't see many Koreans dark as him."_

Steven grips tighter at the counter, so he doesn't throw an inanimate object across the room. Or punch the wall. It would shock people to know there's a few wall cracks in his childhood bedroom. "Mom--" Steven takes a deep breath. "The only book Dad and you pulled my English name from was a book of baby names. You're being racist and homoph-"

_"Racist?! Steven, when have I ever been racist?"_

"Literally less than a minute ago!" Steven shouts, his voice ricocheting around the kitchen.

Steven knows there's no use in letting anger get the best of him, especially when he's trying to inform and educate. But this hits too close to his heart. The woman he loves and respects the most is saying awful, bigoted shit about his best friends. Steven's patience wanes rapidly. He clenches and unclenches his hand.

"Mom, you can't generalize a whole group of people like this." Steven barely holds onto the last few threads of his composure. He tries to keep in mind what Eugene taught him over the years: channel anger into something productive, bring people into an open conversation, empathize even when it's the fucking hardest. "How would you feel if anyone else was saying bad things about Chinese Malaysians?"

_"Well, clearly none of it would be true. They're not well-educated as us."_

"I-- what?" Steven runs a hand roughly through his hair. "Mom, that's not true. There's various levels of educated people across all ethnicities."

_"Sweetheart, you should know better than anyone how only Asians score best on the SATs."_

Steven stares at the wall. Maybe he can cover up a few cracks with a movie poster. "Please don't tell me that you buy into the 'model minority' myth."

_"The what?"_

Clenching his jaw, Steven drags a hand down his face. Honestly, he doesn't even know where to begin with _how_ to talk to his parents about the 'model minority' myth. Steven pauses that for now as he tries to tackle something more within reach. "How does being educated make it okay to think and say ignorant things? It's still _wrong,_ Mom."

 _"Steven, I don't know why you're getting so upset."_ As she switches to Mandarin Chinese, her tone turns scathing. Rapid-fire words hit like bullets. _"You've always been so sensitive. And why is any of this your problem? Most of those people aren't even saved. And that truly does hurt me, darling. But you have to look out for yourself first. Your father and I did not immigrate all the way to America for you to throw your future away. We still think it's--"_ She sighs deeply. _"--a missed opportunity how you left a real job. Of course, we're still proud of you. But you could be doing better. Actually be successful. And we're worried that you're lowering your standards, because of who you're surrounded by."_

How can you know someone for all of your life, then suddenly, they become a stranger?

Who is he talking to? Is this his mother? The one who taught him how to cook, who always worked so hard for their family, who Steven grew up admiring? Steven has never experienced heartbreak like this. He wavers erratically between rage and hurt.

Steven leans against the counter to steady himself. The heel of his palm digs into his upper thigh. Skin screams to be split open. It's almost impossible not to cry. Each and every word said cuts deeper than the sharp objects Steven's body is well-acquainted with. He's too exhausted to try defending himself. It's a lose-lose battle.

But he can't stay silent about Andrew, Eugene and any of the people in his life. Even if they were arguing about strangers, Steven can't stand for this.

"All of my friends and colleagues are amazing, good people, Mom. And I wouldn't be able to do Worth It without Andrew." With tears burning his eyes, Steven looks off to the side. He sees a hoodie Andrew left here the other night draped over the back of a chair. "I lov--"

Anxiety fissures through him relentlessly. In hindsight, Steven's glad he never asked his family for love advice. But then a freight train of shame slams in. He's been in the closet to his family, because he's never been 100% certain if they would be accepting. Yet Steven still had hope. His parents instilled principles of love, compassion, kindness and respect being given to everyone.

Where the fuck are those principles now?

His mother sighs over the phone. A few _'tsk'_ s carry out as well. _"I understand that Andrew is your friend, and you work with him,"_ she says while returning to English. _"But-- just be careful, okay? Don't let him influence you. I'm still shocked at how many people you spend time with are L- LGT--Y-...ABC- GL?"_ She lets out a sound of exasperation. _"That ridiculous thing with too many letters?"_

While blinking back tears, Steven says, "LGBTQIA+."

_"See! Like I said, too many letters."_

"Mom--" Steven swallows hard. His voice cracks from heartache that grows heavier by the second. By now, Steven's almost pleading with her. "You said you were _supportive._ You even said you're an _ally._ "

 _"Of course, I'm supportive. Everyone can love whoever they want to love,"_ she says with a laugh. _"But when it's about_ my children? _That's different."_

Steven's heart stops.

She says _'different'._

Translation: _'wrong', 'unacceptable', 'sick', 'mistake', 'abnormal', 'shameful', 'unlovable'._

There's more coming from the other end of the call. But Steven doesn't register any of it. His chest is on the brink of imploding. It's not until the tail-end that Steven catches some of his mother's words.

_"-and make sure that you eat. You're still too thin. I'll talk to you later, okay?"_

"Okay." Steven's voice sounds far-off even to his own ears. 

_"I'm always praying for you, Steven."_ It's her substitute for saying, _'I love you.'_ Something that's rarely said in their family. _"Talk to you later, sweetie."_

"Thanks, Mom. I'll pray for you too. Bye."

As soon as the call ends, a strangled noise escapes. Steven's the only one in his own home, but he keeps his voice barely audible. As if he's afraid of letting anyone know that he's falling apart.

Steven's careful while setting the phone down, but violent as his back hits the nearest wall. Pain reverberates across his frame from impact. On instinct, Steven covers his mouth with his hand to stifle any outcry. Everything crashes in. The storm ruptures at once. Mercilessly. He slides down until he's sitting on the kitchen floor.

"Please, God-" he chokes out between escalating breathing. Tears finally spill over. Steven clutches at the front of his shirt tightly. Air refuses to go into his lungs. Veins ignite like a vicious forest fire. "Why--?"

_'Why does anxiety exist? Why do panic attacks exist? Why is God putting me through this? What am I supposed to learn from this pain? Is this a test? A punishment? How can being gay be wrong? How can love be wrong?'_

As if Steven wasn't ostracized enough in school for being Asian-American, he was severely criticized and berated by the church community. Steven was that one kid always _"asking too many questions."_ Teachers and youth counselors shook their heads at him. Some even dragged him by the arm to his parents, making a whole scene in front of other families about how Steven needs to be _"raised better."_

Shirt fabric strains between his fingers as Steven's grip tightens. Logically, Steven knows this panic attack will subside. But it's like a reverse bear trap in his chest, taking excruciatingly long to break open. His other hand covers his mouth and nose. Trying to be silent. Even if miles away, Steven thinks his family can hear him. He's disappointed them enough with leaving behind his 'real' job, with not 'growing out' of anxiety, with being 'too liberal' about his beliefs.

Will Steven coming out completely shatter their family?

His upbeat nature comes from a genuine place. But it's also from a place of desperation. As a child, Steven was taught, _"If you smile enough, then you'll smile for real."_ Steven can smile all he wants. But it doesn't rid the ever-growing thorn bush of anxiety inside his body. Always piercing, always puncturing at inner organs. Silently cruel. Breaking through the spaces between his rib bones, and the cracks of self-inflicted wounds.

Steven can't remember how to breathe.

But he remembers the exact location of various sharp objects in his home.

In his mind, Steven sets the items on the kitchen counter, equally apart, perfectly aligned in a row. But he doesn't actually go hunting for these items. He can't. He fucking can't. No matter how much old scar tissue burns under his clothes, and untouched skin screeches to be torn apart--

Steven doesn't want to relapse.

With staggered breathing, Steven paces around restlessly. His right hand grips at his left forearm, nails digging in harshly. Before skin breaks, Steven pries his hand away. His side collides into another wall until he's sliding down again with a strained inhale. A shaking hand reaches for his phone. It's almost impossible to see the screen. Too many tears blur his vision. But he doesn't need to see clearly to hit Andrew's speed dial.

But should he ask for help? What if it comes off as being overdependent? What if he's a burden? Oh, gosh, he hasn't even started prep for Andrew's celebratory dinner tonight. Steven's ruining something even more. He's going to break his family's heart, since apparently, it took this many years to discover they're homophobic. And now he's going to ruin Andrew's mood and their hang out tonight, because Steven can't get his shit together--

Two rings in, and Steven's about to end the call. He can't do this. Not to Andrew. Not to anyone he loves.

But just as Steven's about to hang up, the call's answered.

_"Hello?"_

Steven doesn't realize until now that he's holding his breath. With one hand clutching the phone, his other arm holds his abdomen. As if he's trying to keep himself from falling apart.

_"Stevie, you there? I just wrapped up the errand, so I'll be on my way soon-"_

It's the nickname that breaks Steven's resolve. A sob shattering at the edges escapes. "--Drew."

 _"What's wrong?"_ There's immediate alertness and urgency in Andrew's tone. _"Steven, where are you?"_

"Ap-" Breathing grows more difficult as panic rises. There's no escaping this incoming tsunami. "Apartment," he manages to choke out. "I'm sorry-"

 _"It's okay, Stevie. You don't need to apologize."_ There's a rustling of activity in the background. Andrew tries to keep his voice calm. _"Are you safe?"_

"Yeah," Steven answers out of habit. "I mean- I think-- for now?" He looks warily at the counter. Glimmering silver of all shapes and sizes flash in his mind. Steven holds himself tighter. "I don't wanna--" His voice almost cuts off from intense strain. "Drew- I'm close, I'm so close--"

_"Close to what?"_

"Another milestone." Now, Steven's outright crying. But not even sobs can fully let out when he's struggling to breathe. "Clean. M-milestone of-- being clean. I don't wanna relapse, Andrew." A torrent of words rush out. Fueled by terror and hysteria climbing to unparalleled degrees. "I can't go back to that, I'm not going to get out, I won't come back from it, I- I don't want this, I never wanted this, I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry, _I didn't know-_ "

How could a twelve-year-old boy know he was signing his soul away when making that first cut?

There's a saying about living without regrets. Steven wishes he could follow that. But Steven will always regret the first cut. This addiction will haunt him for the rest of his life. Steven's free hand hovers over his eyes. If he can't see the world, then maybe the world can't see him. Or maybe it's just that Steven doesn't want to see himself.

_"I'm right here with you, Stevie. And I'm so proud of you for being clean. For fighting right now. Stay on the line with me, okay? I'm on my way. Just a few minutes, and I'll be there."_

Steven's breath hitches on another wave of broken sobs. His chest burns. "D-drive safe." He wipes at his damp face. But there's seemingly no end to the tears. "I don't want anything happening to you."

Andrew laughs breathlessly over the line. _"I'll be safe. And I need you to be safe too."_ After a deep, measured inhale, Andrew asks, _"Did you hurt yourself? It's okay. You can be honest. I won't be mad."_

"I didn't," Steven answers. He rests all of his weight against the wall. Every breath sounds like swallowing a mouthful of nails and glass.

_"I'm so proud of you for that. And I'm proud of how you reached out."_

Steven doesn't know how to take the praise. Not in a situation like this. "I'm sorry." His voice cracks. It's the two words he's most used to saying. And he means it every time.

 _"Y'know how you tell me that I have nothing to apologize for? It's the same to you, Steven,"_ Andrew says gently. _"And you say, 'Today's going to be a good day.' Tell me about one of your_ best _days."_

Even when he's crying and gasping, Steven still smiles to himself. Only Andrew can spark warmth in him while Steven's a wreck. Resting his head against the wall, Steven closes his eyes. "You. Me. The pier amusement part. The ocean."

_"We'll go there again someday. I promise. Stay with me."_

Andrew's voice sounds far clearer, nearer than any phone could replicate. Slowly, Steven opens his eyes. He sees Andrew just stepping into the kitchen. Phone in hand. Wide, erratic stare. Blonde hair disheveled. Shirt collar askew. Panting heavily. Shoulders rise and fall as if he ran a mile. 

Tears well in Steven's eyes. Although he wasn't in the car, Steven can tell Andrew must've been frantic and terrified during the drive over. He catches the sight of slight dampness on Andrew's cheeks. As if he hastily wiped at his face before entering. Steven's heart tightens even more at the thought of how hard it must've been for Andrew to hold his voice steady, strong and calm. Even now, there's a cloud of heartache in Andrew's gaze.

"Drew--"

Andrew rushes over, not caring about how hard his knees hit the tiles. He gathers Steven into his arms, and holds him close. One hand cradles the back of Steven's head, fingers curling into his silver hair. Steven sobs loudly into Andrew's chest. While hushing gently, Andrew pulls Steven into his lap.

"I love you." There's no hiding the tears in Andrew's voice. "Love you, love you so much-"

"You can't."

The words escape before Steven can stop them. But he doesn't take them back.

Andrew freezes. After a prolonged moment, he draws back a little. "What?" Andrew stares in confusion. Even hurt. "Why?"

"Because- I-" Steven cries between gasps. His hands tighten in Andrew's shirt. "I love you so much, Drew. More than you could ever know. But--" He thinks of his family. Then he thinks of what Andrew's shared with him. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Andrew only grows more bewildered and concerned. But Andrew stays calm, so he can anchor Steven. "You're not going to hurt me. I know that. I trust you." He dries Steven's tears as more keep falling. "And to be honest?" Andrew laughs softly. "I can't stop loving you even if I tried. I wouldn't want to anyways."

Steven's heart beats faster and breaks at the same time. As Andrew touches the side of his face, Steve cries. He can't stop hearing his mother's words playing on repeat.

"What're you afraid of, Steven?"

It's impossible to see Andrew clearly when the tears just won't stop. There's a sense of quiet, yet tremendous hopelessness. Is all of this a sign that Steven shouldn't ever confess to Andrew? Should Steven start pulling away from him? If Steven's inevitably going to be set on fire, then won't Andrew get burned too? Is letting go of Andrew the right thing to do?

No.

Never.

Fuck that.

"I made you a promise," Steven declares, lifting his head. Light reignites in his eyes. "I'm staying with you, Drew."

Andrew still looks lost and pained. As Steven curls up more against him, and holds on tighter, Andrew embraces him closely. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

In his mind, Steven hears soundbites of terrible things said about Andrew. He feels sick. But most of all, Steven doesn't want to put Andrew through hearing such cruel words. Not right now. Hopefully, never. But that's wishful thinking. At some point, Steven knows they'll need to talk about this.

Steven shakes his head. "Can I tell you another time? I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," Andrew reassures warmly. "I just need to make sure you're not in any danger. Are you going to be safe?"

The unconditional compassion makes Steven tear up more. Steven draws in a breath as he nods. "Yeah. I'll be alright." The screaming of unbroken skin finally quietens. His body doesn't feel like an explosive ready to self-destruct at any given second. "Thank you."

"Of course." Andrew presses his lips against Steven's soft hair. "You're never alone in this."

Andrew rubs soothing circles on Steven's back, and murmurs kind words. Once Steven settles down some more, Andrew helps him stand. He holds Steven's face in his hands. They stare at each other, teary gazes lost in silent conversation.

With a deep breath, Andrew is the first to smile. He wipes away a few more tears, then draws back. "Let me cook for you." Andrew pulls on an apron, and ties it on.

"But..." Steven bites on his lower lip. More tears well in his eyes. He almost chokes on guilt. "I invited you over, and we're celebrating your awesome success with the presentation, and I was gonna make you dinner, and-"

"Who says I'm doing this all by myself?" Quirking a brow, Andrew approaches the stove. "I'm still gonna need your help."

Steven perks up a bit. "Yeah?"

"My back gets kinda cold around this time of year." Andrew glances over his shoulder. "Keep me warm?"

Steven almost tackles Andrew from behind. Laughing, Andrew leans back against him. Steven keeps his arms around Andrew's waist, and nuzzles him affectionately. The heavy atmosphere in the kitchen lightens after Andrew asks Steven to put on a playlist. Slowly, they ease into conversation. They talk about their day, upcoming shoots, how happy they are for their friends' relationships, which shows to watch next, anything and everything.

Later when they're eating, Andrew has Steven in a fit of laughter while critiquing the pasta. There's almost an endless stream of puns. All beautifully awful and dry. Steven's laughing so much that he's wheezing. He catches sight of Andrew smiling. Bright and beautiful.

This.

This is what Steven's never going to give up.

This is what Steven's going to protect.

* * *

Another episode. Another shoot. Another city.

Everyone crams into the overcrowded subway. Normally, Steven doesn't have claustrophobia. But situations like this spike his anxiety. Bodies pack into the subway train like sardines in a can. Strangers and bags press up against Steven. An umbrella jabs into his side. He feels someone breathing on the back of his neck. Steven closes his eyes while trying to stay calm. But his anxiety keeps climbing higher.

Eyes open when Steven's pulled forward, and moved around. Andrew switches places with him. Until now, Andrew was backed up into a corner. Already Steven feels a little better without being in close contact with strangers. Andrew guides Steven to bury his face into his neck and shoulder. 

"You're gonna be okay. Just focus on me." Andrew's soothing voice washes over Steven. With one hand running through his Andrew's other arm circles around him. "We'll be at our stop in a few minutes."

Steven holds onto the front of Andrew's shirt. Closing his eyes, Steven breathes in deeply. Soon, only Andrew exists. Everything else fades away. Waves of anxiety recede. Warmth and safety flood in. Steven relaxes enough to loosen his tight grip on Andrew's shirt. He settles for wrapping his arms around the man's waist. Steven nuzzles him. Against his lips, Steven feels the pulse in Andrew's jugular vein.

After time passes, Andrew holds Steven tighter, fingers curling at the back of Steven's head. "We get off at the next stop." He clasps their hands together. "Don't let go, okay?"

Steven lifts his head from Andrew's shoulder to meet his gaze. "Okay."

Once the subway train jolts to a halt, a swarm of people shove to get out. Steven follows Andrew, anchored by their joined hands in all of this chaos. They go from the crowded subway to the crowded platform. They're taken by a wave of people climbing stairs until walking through equally crowded halls. Steven looks at Andrew. Then he looks down at their hands. 

"Am I-" Steven hesitates. "Am I being-- too clingy?"

"Not at all." Andrew smiles over his shoulder. "I don't want to lose you in the crowd."

Something sparks in Steven's chest. Feels like hope. As if the two of them can take on anything together. Steven returns Andrew's smile.

Even once they meet up with the rest of the team, and walk the city streets, Andrew doesn't let go.

Neither does Steven.

* * *

**( sms: andrew )** You free this weekend? 

**( sms: steven )** yeah! on saturday c:

 **( sms: andrew )** Wanna go on an adventure?

 **( sms: steven )** ooooooh where to ??? owo

 **( sms: andrew )** It's a secret :)

 **( sms: andrew )** Don't worry. Not dragging you to a surprise Unsolved shoot

 **( sms: steven )** lmao i wouldn't be opposed to it >w>

 **( sms: andrew )** Don't know if they could handle us

 **( sms: andrew )** Or well-- just Ryan

 **( sms: andrew )** It'd be you, me, Shane vs. Ryan

 **( sms: steven )** lskdjfajl ANDREW!!!

 **( sms: andrew )** What? Are you a Boogara??????

 **( sms: steven )** lol no. i'm not 100% shaniac either. but i'd probably freak out during a 'ghost' hunt >-<

**( sms: andrew )** It's okay. You can hold my hand

 **( sms: steven )** Q-Q <3<3<3

 **( sms: andrew )** So, you said Sat's good? I'll pick you up

 **( sms: steven )** yeah!!! that's perfect ;u; <3

* * *

"Are people driving by us giving weird looks? 'cause they might think you're kidnapping me."

Andrew laughs good-naturedly. "If we used just a strip of cloth as a blindfold, then yeah, maybe. But a bunny sleeping mask doesn't look as ominous."

Smiling, Steven touches the small rabbit ears of the mask. "Can I keep this?"

"Mmhm."

"You gonna tell me where we're going yet?"

"Nope. But we're almost there."

Steven hears the windows roll down. A cool breeze brushes across his face. He's struck by the scent and soothing sounds of the ocean. Accompanied by laughter, voices and music growing louder. Steven reaches through the dark until he touches Andrew's arm.

" _I_ was going to bring _you_ here next time." Steven laughs to cover up straining emotions in his voice.

Andrew leans into Steven's touch. "How do you know where 'here' is?"

"How could I _not_ know?" Steven feels the car slow to a halt. The windows close, and engine turns off. "Can I-"

Before Steven asks to take off the mask, darkness vanishes and light floods in. Steven sees Andrew with his warm smile.

And to see that smile feels like Steven has finally come home.

"We're celebrating today," Andrew announces.

Steven blinks in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Your milestone. And how hard you've been working on recovery. I'm so proud of you. And I hope you're proud of yourself too." While squeezing Steven's hand, Andrew laughs sheepishly. "So, I thought I'd surprise you with this?"

There's a tremor in Steven's chest. It resonates stronger by the second. He tries not to cry. "I--" No one's ever celebrated the progress on his recovery. Not even himself. Steven resists the urge to clutch the front of his dark hoodie. It's amazing how his heart races faster even while throwing itself at ribcage walls. "This is why you told me wear the hoodie?" 

"Yep." With a grin, Andrew tugs on a drawstring. "C'mon."

They both get out of the car. As Andrew locks the car, Steven tackles him with a hug. Andrew's laughter muffles against Steven's sleeve. Steven squeezes Andrew in an embrace.

"Thank you so much."

Andrew returns the hug. "Of course, dude."

After drawing back, Andrew holds his hand out. Steven beams as their hands meet, and fingers intertwine.

Together, they walk towards the pier. With how it's a clear day with blue skies, the park's even more vibrant. Steven tugs Andrew in the direction of Playland Arcade. They're quickly reminded of how awful they are at games. Each time they lose, they're struck by fits of laughter. Until Andrew somehow wins the last game by not really trying to aim. The game vendor nods over at the lowest-tier of prizes to choose from.

"You can pick," says Andrew while gently elbowing Steven. "Looks like we can get two."

Lighting up, Steven looks over the display, then points. "Two of those, please!" Steven's face only gets brighter as black and white cat plush key chains are passed over. "Thank you!" As they walk away, Steven waves the cats at Andrew. "Which one do you want?"

Andrew looks the key chains over thoughtfully. "White one?"

"Mmkay!" Steven safely tucks the keychains away in his crossbody bag. He loops his arm around Andrew's elbow. "We should do an episode on funnel cakes."

"And I'm guessing one of the places we'd check out is here?" Andrew nods up ahead at the shop. 

"Maaaaybe?"

Steven laughs at Andrew's deadpan. But it only lasts for a few seconds until a smile breaks through.

Once they're at the front of the line, they give their order. The two briefly debate over who's paying, followed with trying to pass over money to the cashier first. Steven swats at Andrew with a sweater paw, but there's no real impact. Andrew wins when he locks an arm around Steven, and keeps him in a tight hug. With his other hand, Andrew passes over some bills.

Steven laughs into Andrew's shoulder. "I'm paying next time."

"Knowing us, we'll be back for more before we leave." Andrew squeezes Steven in the hug before letting go.

They're given a massive funnel cake with an avalanche of powdered sugar on top. The two find a bench looking out towards the ocean. Andrew glances over Steven's shoulder to see him snap a photo. It's posted on his IG Story with a heart drawn around the funnel cake. Andrew tilts his head as Steven adds some text:

_thank you, drew! <3 uwu <3_

"What's uwu?"

Steven almost chokes. He tries to hide his smile against his sleeve. "What's _what?_ "

"u...wu?" Andrew stares quizzically. He's not sure if he's pronouncing it correctly. "uwu?"

Steven collapses against his best friend in a fit of giggles. Andrew just smiles, shaking his head. He nudges the paper plate towards Steven. They start digging in.

"It's so good!" Steven's absolutely ecstatic. "How can it always be so good? _Oh,mygosh--_ "

Andrew laughs at Steven's reaction. He breaks off another piece with plenty of powdered sugar, and holds it out. Steven happily takes it into his mouth, humming in delight. When Steven holds out a piece, Andrew takes it without hesitation. It's not the first time they've fed each other. But without cameras around, Steven grows more aware of how intimate this is. And how much Andrew trusts him. They even sit so close that their bodies touch from thighs to sides. 

Lightly, Andrew suggests, "We could try making some of our own. I looked up a recipe for it once. Think we could pull it off."

"Really?!" Steven leans against Andrew. He practically has stars in his eyes. "That would be awesome, Drew. I-"

All words evaporate when Andrew wipes away powdered sugar from Steven's face. Andrew's thumb brushes at the corner of his mouth. With wide eyes, Steven watches as Andrew licks the powdered sugar off. 

"Mm. Sweet."

Steven's face burns fiercely. What flusters him even more is that Andrew isn't trying to pull any seductive move. The man's already preoccupied with breaking off another piece for Steven.

As Steven eats, he's struck with a slow realization. Whether they're filming Worth It, or just sharing food outside of work, Andrew always gives Steven the best parts, or a larger portion. Even in the subtlest ways, Andrew's been taking care of Steven. There's an ache in his chest from being so moved. He looks down at his hoodie sleeves. Steven's eyes widen as a realization strikes him.

Abruptly, Steven stands up. _"ANDREW!"_

Andrew nearly jumps at Steven's sudden shout. "What? What's wrong? Are you oka-" He's interrupted by Steven grabbing his hand, dragging him along, and discarding the empty paper plate along the way. "Stevie, what's going on?"

Initial shock gives way to exhilarated laughter as Steven pulls Andrew through the crowd. Their fingers lace together. A sea of people and colorful lights blur by them. Cotton-candy hues bleed into a marvelous mess. All that remains in focus is each other.

In the distance, a familiar souvenir shop appears. Andrew's throat tightens. He's hit with a strong wave of nostalgia. Steven pulls him through the door. Sure enough, the same table with the same black hoodie Andrew bought Steven is set in the same place. Still the same design with _'SANTA MONICA'_ slapped on front in white typography, and two white stripes around each upper arm.

Steven reaches for a hoodie. "This is a good size, yeah?" He holds the dark fabric up to Andrew's frame.

"Yeah, that works. But Steven, you don't have to-"

Steven's already making a beeline for the register, and passing over bills. Before Andrew can protest, Steven returns with a grin. It's impossible not to receive the held out hoodie. By the time they're outside, Andrew has the black clothing slipped on. Steven helps get Andrew's ruffled hair back into place.

"Now we match!" Steven waves with sweater paws. "And you won't be cold."

"Thanks, dude." Andrew glances down at himself, then looks up with a grin. "Guess I got a new favorite hoodie too now."

They walk along the wooden pier until Steven finds an uncrowded spot by the railing. As Andrew rests his arms on the railing, Steven hugs him from behind.

With hopeful eyes, Steven asks, "Picture?"

Andrew chuckles. "Yeah, sure." He's about to move, but Steven stops him by leaning closer.

"No, stay right there! Hold on, lemme-" Steven draws his phone out of his jean pocket. He stretches his arms out on either side of Andrew, and taps the screen.

"Please don't drop your phone into the ocean."

Despite Andrew's dry drawl, he's smiling by the time the camera pulls up on the phone. Andrew's camera shy for personal photos, so he hides his face against Steven's neck. Steven ends up taking a couple of blurry photos.

"Andrew!" Steven's laughter mixes with the ocean waves. "You have to look _at_ the camera. Not away from it."

"Okay, okay." Smiling, Andrew stops trying to hide his face. 

Steven manages to take some clear photos of them. But he can't pass up the chance to squeeze Andrew in a tighter hug. His arm goes across the Andrew's shoulders. As Andrew buries into the sleeve, Steven's cheek presses against his head. Somehow, the moment's captured in a photo without Steven's phone falling into the sea.

Delighted, Steven lets out a soft wheeze. "Is it okay if I post these on Instagram?"

"Yeah, sure." Andrew nuzzles more against Steven's sleeve, because it's just so damned comfortable. "Can you send the photos to me?"

"Already on it!" Steven taps away at the screen. He blinks after realizing what he sent. "Oh! Sorry, I sent the blurry ones too."

"It's perfect." 

Steven looks over Andrew's shoulder. A blurry photo's set as his phone wallpaper. Steven's heart leaps in his chest. An idea sparks. Steven changes his wallpaper to one of the other blurry photos.

"Match again, huh?" Andrew looks at Steven with a smile.

The amusement park lights cast a soft glow around Andrew. Everything appears brighter, warmer, kinder. While watching the lights reflect off Andrew's eyes, Steven sees his future standing right here. In his arms. And that's when Steven just-- _knows._ This isn't attraction that can be replicated with anyone else. This isn't a fleeting crush that will fade over time. 

He's in love with Andrew.

Steven wants to keep being by Andrew's side. Finding ways to make that dimple appear. Be with this man no matter what haunts him at night. And be right there beside him the next day.

"Wanna go walk by the ocean?" After slipping his phone away, Steven reaches for Andrew's hand.

"You gonna try pushing me into the water?" There's a hint of a challenge in Andrew's grin.

"Yeah, maybe I will!" Steven huffs. "You've tried to push me into water so many times. Even off-camera!"

Andrew throws his head back to laugh. "What can I say? It's fun."

The moment they're near the sea, Steven tries to push Andrew towards the low waves. But Andrew uses his weight and strength to stand his ground. Steven barely gets Andrew an inch forward. It's so comical and cute that Andrew can't hold a straight face.

"You gonna push me, or what?" Andrew smiles in amusement. "This is your chance."

"Oh, my god." Steven's already tiring himself out. "Why won't you move--"

Somehow, Steven manages to slip on the sand. Before he hits the ground, Andrew catches him. It's nothing like the movies where one character holds the other, faces mere inches apart, seconds away from a kiss. Instead the two collapse on the ground. But Andrew shifts their positions at the last moment. Andrew takes most of the impact, and Steven lands on him. Sand explodes all around them.

"Drew!" Steven stares with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, I-"

The apology's cut off by the sound of Andrew's laughter, the sight of Andrew's smile. Steven's sure it's not only his hoodie fighting off the evening cold. The light radiating from Andrew is so beautiful. When Andrew touches the side of his face, Steven's heart almost collapses in on itself like a supernova. That simple, light touch offers kindness that Steven doesn't always know how to give himself.

Steven rests his head on Andrew's chest. Just so he can feel more reverberations from Andrew laughing. They must look ridiculous as a mess of tangled limbs on the sand. But neither of them care. 

Together, they watch the sunset. Listening to the ocean. The evening breeze and Andrew's fingers brush through Steven's hair. Steven reaches for Andrew's other hand.

"Thanks, Drew," Steven whispers into Andrew's ear.

"For what?"

Steven guides Andrew's hand to his side. A subtle tremor of hesitation and fear ripple through Steven. But he embraces it. Emotions wash over him in tandem with the sea's rhythm. Steven lets Andrew's fingers ghost over a sliver of bare skin where his hoodie rode up.

Andrew's breath hitches at the touch of scar tissue. Slowly, Andrew traces one scar. Steven exhales shakily. Nobody else has ever touched his scars before. Andrew caresses the line a few more times. Without breaking the silence, Andrew wraps his arms tightly around Steven. An inhale passes. Then an exhale. Steven returns the embrace.

Sounds of the ocean waves, far-off voices from the amusement park, and each other's breathing draw together into a lullaby. Warm hues recede as the sun sinks below the horizon. Indigos and blues paint over. It's all so fleeting. But maybe that's part of what makes these moments breathtaking.

Andrew reaches for Steven's hand. Steven turns his eyes from the fading sun. With a wide gaze, Steven watches Andrew lift his hand higher. Something breaks and collapses and resurrects all at once when Andrew presses his lips against Steven's wrist. Giving love to ghost lines marring tender skin.

"There's something you told me one night. And I want to tell you those words back." The last flickers of daylight catch at tears brimming Andrew's eyes. He smiles. "Thank you for staying alive."

Steven stares. He doesn't realize he's crying until Andrew begins drying his tears. Steven leans into Andrew's hand, letting out a breathless, quiet sob. His chest aches. Somehow, Andrew just _knows_ that Steven carries contemplations of death, and even came close to acting upon them. But his chest aches most at how Andrew loves him. Unconditionally.

"I-" Steven's voice chokes. "I'm so grateful-- that-" He draws the ocean air into his lungs. Their foreheads touch. "-we're together."

"Same." Andrew holds Steven tighter. Although the final rays of the sun disappear, there's more color in Andrew's eyes than ever. "Was today a good day?"

"Mmhm." Steven smiles back. "One of the best."

In shared silence, they lay there for a while longer. Watching traces of gold and magenta linger in the sky, reflecting across the sea.

* * *

"It'snotjustacrush. I'minlovewithAndrew. WhatdoIdo?"

Ryan's in midst of reaching for the tiramisu. Zach's fork stays clamped in his mouth. It takes a few seconds for them to decipher Steven's mess of words. Suddenly, Ryan bursts out laughing, until he's wheezing. Zach lightly slaps him in the arm a couple of times. His other hand tries to hide his smile. 

"Guys--!" Steven tries to express his betrayal with a scowl. But he ends up looking like a ruffled kitten. "I'm confiding in my friends, and you're just-" Steven stirs the brownie batter even faster. "You're just being mean! If you keep this up, you're not getting anymore dessert!"

Ryan's going to laugh himself to death at this rate. He's about to fall off the kitchen chair. "Jesus- Jesus Christ-- Lord, no, wait--" His hand slaps the counter a few times. "Satan, Goatman, Annabelle, take me now- _oh, my god-_ " Ryan figures the best way to quiet down is by eating more tiramisu.

"Man, when I told people I love Gene, I was a real fucking mess." Zach's voice pitches higher between giggles. He's on the verge of hysteria. "I'm talking drunk as fuck kinda mess. But Steven, you-" Even Zach wheezes. "You're in a cat apron, baking, and--" Zach leans against Ryan who's still shaking. "You're so cute!"

"I'm not cute!" Steven insists over another round of his friends' laughter. "And..." He falters while looking down sadly at the mixing bowl. "What if Andrew isn't into 'cute'?"

Ryan and Zach exchange looks. They're making a great deal of effort to calm down. But in less than a second, they're a giggling mess again. Zach pulls off his glasses to dry his damp eyes. Ryan heaves in another wheeze.

"Dude--" Ryan finally gets around to talking again. He pushes his dark bangs back. "You don't have to worry about that. Andrew is _more_ than into you being cute."

"Everyone's seen your guys' matching phone wallpapers," Zach points out, gesturing with his fork.

"Remember those Instagram posts?" Ryan nudges Zach with his elbow, then smirks at Steven. "Damn, Lim. You broke the Internet that day."

Steven's more confused than before. With another huff, Steven keeps mixing the batter. He's fallen into the habit of stress baking, which is why Ryan and Zach are hanging out at his place. They're moderating how much Steven bakes. It comes with the bonus of eating free dessert, and taking plenty more home to their boyfriends.

"To answer your question--" Zach says while digging into more of the tiramisu. "You could start with telling Andrew how you feel."

"What?!" Steven stirs a little too vigorously. "I just- What if it ruins everything?"

"Like what?" asks Ryan, genuinely curious. "Your friendship? The show? Work?"

Steven's opens his mouth to answer, then stops. Being in this kitchen where Steven had that phone call with his mother spurs memories back to life. "I'm--" His chest tightens almost unbearably. "I'm afraid of hurting him."

Now, his friends appear genuinely confused. Even concerned.

Ryan sets his fork down. "Why would you think that?"

"Let's say hypothetically-- if Andrew _did_ feel the same, and-" Steven laughs under his breath, "and _maybe_ if he wanted to _be with me--_ it would make his life harder." He mixes at a slow pace. As if it's an automated motion, and his mind is elsewhere. "And I don't- I'd never wanna do that. What if being together is selfish?"

The atmosphere in the kitchen shifts. It feels colder. Heavier. Zach and Ryan try to silently communicate with each other. By now, Steven leaves the mixing bowl alone. His hands brace on the kitchen counter. While studying the surface, Steven tries to steady his breathing. Before his friends can respond, Steven throws out a question.

"How...how did..." Getting out each syllable, and trying to string them into something coherent feels like pulling teeth. "How did you guys come out to your families? Because I--" Steven looks up. "I decided I'm going to come out to mine."

Ryan and Zach stare.

"They don't know?"

Tears well in Steven's eyes. He bites on his lower lip. "I- I'm sorry-" His expression breaks. So does his voice.

"Woah, woah, woah, Stevie, hey-" Zach abandons the dessert. He pulls Steven into an embrace. "Dude, it's okay."

Ryan joins the group hug. "You've got nothing to be sorry about."

With anxiety not being a stranger to any of them, Zach and Ryan can read the signs in Steven. They give him some moments to catch his breath. Ryan keeps a steady, reassuring hand on Steven's shoulder. Meanwhile, Zach rubs his back. Gradually, some of the tension eases away.

"You wanna sit down?"

Steven shakes his head. "I wanna keep going at this." He nods at the mixing bowl, then smiles at his friends. Even if it's a little shaky at the edges. "Thanks for being here. And-" Steven's gaze falters as he looks down. "Not being mad."

"Stevie." Zach rests his head on Steven's other shoulder. "We'd never be mad at you over something like this. Nobody should be."

"There's no set deadline for when you come out. It should happen when you're ready, and if it's something you want." Ryan squeezes Steven's shoulder, then returns to his chair. "You can tell us what's going on. We'll listen."

"Yeah!" With an encouraging smile, Zach sits on the edge of the kitchen counter. "And to be fair, you've always listened to all of us."

Steven nods gratefully at them. He pulls off his glasses to dry his eyes, then takes a deep breath. For the first time, Steven shares the conversation he had with his mother. It already felt like he was pulling teeth earlier. But now it's like removing all other bones from his body.

While listening, Ryan and Zach remain quiet. There's a few frustrated sighs, some sharp inhales, a couple of swears. Ryan's grimace grows worse by the second. Zach's on the verge of angry tears.

"--and I just-" Steven puts the baking pan in the oven. After closing the metal and glass door, he sets the timer. "I couldn't believe it took me _this_ long to realize how my parents truly feel and think. Like the racism, I've been aware of, and I hate it, I've always fucking hated it, since I was a kid-" Steven's voice cracks from frustration. He can't help the swearing. Anger bristles under his skin. "But I thought at least progress was being made with my mom being supportive of LGBTQ+."

After a deep breath, Steven turns away from the oven. "I won't stay in closet anymore. Best way to confront my family is by speaking as their gay son. And I just-" Exhaustion that's been piling on over the days becomes apparent. "I _want_ to be out. _Fully. Completely._ I don't want my life to be dictated by fear. I can't-" Steven struggles to let out an exhale. But he fights harder to break his own silence. "I'm done not being my real self all the time."

He's left panting by the end of this impromptu speech. Steven feels raw and vulnerable. But he also feels more ownership over himself. As if all this time he's been a fading ghost. But finally, he begins to feel a little more solid, a little more real. Even expressing his decision to come out fuels his conviction.

"I support you," Ryan declares. No hesitation, no doubt whatsoever. "I'm with you, Steven."

"Same. You're not alone in this," adds Zach with a steady stare. "Also, Steven--" Zach sits up straight. "I know you love your mom, but she's wrong. You didn't throw your life away or whatever, because you chose a different career path."

"You made the right decision for yourself. It's your life. Nobody gets to tell you otherwise," Ryan states strongly. "We're all so proud of what you create. And how you're giving something good to people through Worth It."

"Thank you." Steven sounds exhausted, but his smile is sincere.

"I'm sorry that you've been going through this." Zach shakes his head while sighing. "Like-- we know how close you are with your family."

Steven laughs under his breath. It sounds brittle. He feels brittle too. "I just-- I don't-" He breathes through teeth. "I don't know how to keep loving people I've loved for so long-- when they're racist, homophobic and other fucked up shit like this." Steven's shoulders fall at the confession. "What was it like when you came out? But only if you don't mind me asking. I understand if you'd rather not talk about it."

Ryan and Zach share a glance. When Ryan nods over at Zach to go first, Zach draws in a breath.

"My family always knew, so it wasn't much of a surprise to them. And I know I'm really fucking lucky, because they're accepting. Also they've already been calling Eugene their 'son-in-law' the moment we told them we're dating." Any other time, Zach would be ecstatic to share that story. But not right now. He blinks through tears. "However I'm aware not everyone gets that kind of support and love. Even though everyone deserves it."

Ryan folds his arms across his chest. "In my case, my family was holding out for the hope that I'd magically turn straight by the time I grew up." He refrains from rolling his eyes, but still shakes his head. "I came out to them around college. They weren't blatantly hostile, but they were..." Ryan sighs, trying to find the right words. "Distant for a while. In a passive-aggressive way. But after they had time to process it, they said that they love me and support me. However I've had to cut ties with some relatives." Ryan looks pointedly at Steven. "It sounds hard, and it's even harder to put into practice. But if things gets toxic, abusive, anything like that-- you have every right to walk away."

"And if you're open to it, you should reach out to Eugene," Zach suggests with a hopeful look. "I think it would help to get his perspective."

Steven hesitates. "I don't want to bother him. He's probably really busy..."

"Eugene makes time for people he loves," Zach reassures as he smiles. "Trust me, Eugene will be more than happy to listen! And he always refers to you as his little brother."

"You can reach out to any of us about anything. 3PM or 3AM. Doesn't matter." There's still a heaviness to Ryan's gaze. But there's love as well. "Especially when it comes to something like this."

Steven nods, overwhelmed with gratitude. "Thank you. It means a lot." He can breathe a little easier now. Before he has a chance to say anything else, the doorbell rings. "Oh! Lemme get that." Steven rushes over to the front door. 

When the door opens, Ned and Keith are standing on the other side, carrying alcohol and boba tea. Their beaming faces drop the moment they see that Steven's been crying. It's even more apparent something is wrong when Ryan and Zach join, looking distressed and haggard.

"Who hurt you?" is the first thing Ned says, expression getting dangerously serious.

"Steven--" Worriedly, Keith searches Steven's face for answers, but finds none. "What happened?"

"Hey, guys." Steven tries to smile. Somehow, he manages to laugh even when a sob catches in his throat. Steven steps aside to let them in. "I'll tell you in the kitchen."

* * *

Anxiety amps up everyday. Steven's been able to keep it hidden for the most part. But when he's alone at night, the anxiety's fucking brutal. His chest, his arms, his entire body flares with aches, making it impossible to sleep. With a shuddering breath, Steven reaches for his phone. It takes nearly half an hour to write the first message. He continually rewrites over and over. But once he starts sending the texts, the dam breaks open. Everything floods out.

 **( sms: steven )** hi, eugene!!! hope you're doing well ;u; <3 zach told me that i should reach out to you. (but also i know that you're busy and alkdsjfs it's late at night ;;; i'm sorry! pls don't feel like you need to reply ASAP or anything like that!!)

 **( sms: steven )** i decided that i'm going to come out to my family.

 **( sms: steven )** which...yeah, it also means i've been closest to my family all this time. i'll be honest: i've been scared, and i'm even more scared now. had a recent call with my mom. it's been made very clear she's anti-LGBTQ+ even though she claims to be an ally??? but it's like how she insists she's not racist even though she IS. and this extends to my father as well, since she expressed he feels the same.

 **( sms: steven )** and i know this is thinking too far ahead, but-- i'm terrified of telling andrew how i feel. bc let's say by chance, andrew feels the same? and maybe......he'll even consider going out with me? but my family was already saying awful, inexcusable things about andrew when he's just my friend. if we were to go out, wouldn't that be putting him more in the line of fire? am i making things harder for andrew by being close to him?

 **( sms: steven )** alsdfjalkdjf ;;;; i'm sorry i really hope this doesn't come off as selfish ,__, ;; i swear, it's not like i think i even have a chance of being w/ andrew. but i don't want to hurt him. or you. or any of our friends.

 **( sms: steven )** i'm still going to come out to my family though. they're visiting LA soon.

 **( sms: steven )** i don't want to hide anymore

 **( sms: steven )** and you know how it's important to me that i create meaningful content. i feel like there's more i can do by being out across all areas of my life. not just to our friends and co-workers. i want to open up dialogue for more LGBTQ+ experiences to be shared. especially when it comes to POC perspectives.

 **( sms: steven )** so........yeah. oh, god alsdkjfa i'm sorry for writing so much ;;;

 **( sms: steven )** but yeah, do you have any advice on how to come out? esp to a conservative, religious, asian family???? ,__, ;;

 **( sms: eugene )** Steven, I'm so proud of you. 

**( sms: eugene )** I see you. I hear you. I'm with you.

 **( sms: eugene )** Everything you're feeling is real. So, don't think that you're being selfish, overreacting, anything like that. And I'm proud of you for reaching out. You and I tend to be better about giving help than asking for it. 

**( sms: eugene )** Before I share my thoughts, can I have more info? I want to understand your situation best as possible. What are your concerns, anxieties, and fears about coming out to your family? Any specific challenges with having that conversation?

 **( sms: steven )** thank you, eugene ;-; <3<3<3 !!!!!!

 **( sms: steven )** and ah........there's a LOT. i don't want to unload all of this on you ;; sjshsjdjs

 **( sms: eugene )** I'm your friend. I want to know whatever's on your mind. You're safe here.

 **( sms: steven )** q-q <3 thx eugene ok so........

 **( sms: steven )** i'm worried about the language barrier. in english, i feel equipped and knowledgable enough to communicate my identity, LGBTQ+, and other topics.

 **( sms: steven )** but there's a lot of complexities and nuances to these conversations that i don't know if my parents will fully understand in english. i'm not fluent with speaking my parents' language. i can barely get by with mandarin chinese ;;;

 **( sms: steven )** for example, in the past-- when i tried talking with them about mental health (i needed help for anxiety and stuff ;;;;), it was really difficult for them to understand. because on just a very basic level, i couldn't TALK to them.

 **( sms: steven )** there's a power imbalance when my parents switch over to mandarin chinese. they can say whatever they want, including...some very harsh things. and i just- i can't defend myself. i can't counterargue. because i don't have the language skills to be on an even playing field. and they KNOW that.

 **( sms: steven )** which leads to another challenge-- the cultural and generational barriers. not only was it hard to communicate about the actual topic (in this case above: mental health support). but it was hard to communicate in a way where they could empathize. they see topics like mental health and LGBTQ+ to be for non-asians.

 **( sms: steven )** these topics are so heavily stigmatized. i have a hard time contextualizing things for my parents, because we don't share the same cultural background growing up.

 **( sms: steven )** and we have very different approaches to religion. that's been a point of tension between us for years tbh ;;; with my anxiety, they still believe i just need to pray more. (so i wouldn't be surprised if they also believe you can "pray the gay away.")

 **( sms: steven )** thoughts??? ;-; 

**( sms: eugene )** Thanks for sharing all of that. It helps to get more perspective. Also I'm sorry you had to face those challenges when trying to seek help for your mental health. Right now, are you safe? And did you eventually get mental health support?

 **( sms: steven )** thank YOU for listening <3 and yeah, i'm safe!!! just in bed qwq ;;

 **( sms: steven )** um...not really ?? ;;; i mean. i briefly checked in with a college counselor. or a therapist that would sometimes work on-campus? i don't really remember. but they limited students to only two sessions ha ;;;;;;; so yeah. 

**( sms: eugene )** That's fucked up.

 **( sms: eugene )** Can't believe colleges still make access to mental health resources and support so goddamned hard

 **( sms: eugene )** As if students aren't already struggling

 **( sms: eugene )** Would you be open to finding a mental health professional with me? 

**( sms: steven )** q-q are you sure??? 

**( sms: eugene )** Absolutely <3

 **( sms: steven )** tbh i'm still really nervous and scared about therapy

 **( sms: steven )** but yeah! i'll do it with you ;u; 

**( sms: eugene )** Awesome <3 And lol I feel the same. Along with being resistant to the idea of therapy for myself.

 **( sms: eugene )** But it's time both of us get the help we've always deserved.

 **( sms: eugene )** Alright-- so, my thoughts:

 **( sms: eugene )** Your frustrations and concerns are valid. And I relate very strongly.

 **( sms: eugene )** Btw not trying to make this about me. I usually don't share these things. But I thought it might help, so you know that you're not alone in these struggles. Also since you and I both come from Asian-American immigrant families.

 **( sms: eugene )** My parents are fairly English fluent. But not to the extent where they could fully understand my discussions about LGBTQ+ and related subjects.

 **( sms: eugene )** And I'll be the first to admit that my Korean isn't great. I'm nowhere near experienced in Korean as I am with English. Language gets weaponized real quick during conversations. So, I understand your frustration.

 **( sms: eugene )** Like you said-- we're faced with the additional barriers of different cultural backgrounds, generational gaps, views on religion, list goes on.

 **( sms: eugene )** Of course, it would help if the language barrier didn't exist at all. So you could fully inform and educate your family. But the harder battle is tackling deep-rooted homophobia, racism, and other prejudices.

 **( sms: eugene )** I'm sure you already know this-- but this talk you're going to have will be hard, especially given what you've told me about your family. Embrace the discomfort. Try to have the talk during a time and place where you can all sit down, and hold a conversation. Even with the language limitations and everything we talked about, try to inform them best as you can. And if you're open to it, you can invite them to ask questions.

 **( sms: eugene )** But Steven

 **( sms: eugene )** It's not your job to make other people change and grow. At least, not in this kind of situation. It's already fucking hard to just tell your family that you're not straight.

 **( sms: eugene )** The truth is that people need to decide for themselves if they're going to change and grow.

 **( sms: eugene )** The harder truth is that there's a chance you might need to distance, or even cut off from your family for a while. When people are harmful and toxic, when they're not supporting you, when they don't love ALL of you--

 **( sms: eugene )** You have EVERY right to step away.

 **( sms: eugene )** I've done it, and so have some of our friends. Your safety and wellbeing always comes first. Take whatever measures needed to protect yourself.

 **( sms: eugene )** Also about Andrew-- you're not being selfish. Actually, you're being pretty damned selfless. It's understandable why you have those fears. Even I have concerns about Zach getting backlash from my Korean family, my old church, so on. 

**( sms: eugene )** But trust in Andrew. And trust in yourself. IF something was to happen, protect him. But don't run away.

 **( sms: eugene )** You love him, right?

 **( sms: steven )** yes

 **( sms: steven )** i'm IN love with him

 **( sms: eugene )** Then stand by him. Fight for him.

 **( sms: eugene )** And I know Andrew will keep doing the same for you.

 **( sms: eugene )** Trust that you already know what's best for yourself. Make sure you keep an eye out for potential gaslighting. (Which I know can be hard. Asian kids grow up being gaslit, and Asian elders love justifying it as 'discipline'.) And if by chance things get physical-- get out of there.

 **( sms: eugene )** And do NOT hesitate to reach out to any of us. Any time. If you need anything, we'll be there.

 **( sms: steven )** Q-Q <3

 **( sms: steven )** legit crying aslkdjfa;; eugene, you have no idea how much i needed to hear all of this. thank you so much.

 **( sms: steven )** fuck

 **( sms: steven )** i still get so angry over what my mom said about you

 **( sms: eugene )** Me? 

**( sms: steven )** she was saying homophobic, racist things.........

 **( sms: eugene )** ???

 **( sms: steven )** like how it's not a surprise you're gay. because you're korean.

 **( sms: steven )** and uh somehow that's in relation to k-pop????????

 **( sms: eugene )** L M A O

 **( sms: eugene )** Ah, yes-- the true power of BTS is their ability to turn Koreans gay. One smile from Jungkook, and you can say good-bye to being straight lol

 **( sms: eugene )** What else did she say? :) :) :)

 **( sms: steven )** ,___, i don't want to upset you ;;;; or possibly trigger you

 **( sms: eugene )** Steven, I know you don't think, feel or believe in what your family does. It's okay. At this point, I find the shit said about ME hilarious

 **( sms: steven )** well jdksixj ;;

 **( sms: steven )** that you're dark for a Korean??????????

 **( sms: eugene )** lol Dude

 **( sms: eugene )** I've been told that all my life.

 **( sms: eugene )** Mostly by Koreans. Especially my own family

 **( sms: eugene )** Along with a comprehensive list of all the plastic surgery I need to look even 'decent'.

 **( sms: eugene )** Double-eyelid surgery for starters. Been told that since I was a kid

 **( sms: steven )** WHAT??!?!!!!!!

 **( sms: steven )** i'm so sorry, gene ;-; NONE of that's true!!! you're stunning as you are.

 **( sms: eugene )** Ah, thanks, Steven. I appreciate that <3

 **( sms: eugene )** But being criticized for being a 'dark' Asian doesn't upset me most, because of my personal physical insecurities. What I don't fucking tolerate is colorism, anti-Blackness, the Asian belief that 'lighter is better', and bullshit Euro-centric beauty standards.

 **( sms: eugene )** I'm just real done with Asians deluding themselves into thinking they're the best POC, and embracing the 'model minority' myth with open arms.

 **( sms: eugene )** Trust me, it's not just your family. I've grown up around that all my life: family, peers, church, neighbors, you name it. You can't believe the shit I've heard Koreans say about other Asians (Japanese, Indian, Vietnamese, list goes fucking on.) Used to think it was just a Texas thing. But after moving to California, I realized this spreads across the Asian community.

 **( sms: eugene )** Also just because Asians experience racism doesn't justify us being racist to anyone else. Or exercising any kind of bigoted behavior. It's not Oppression Olympics.

 **( sms: eugene )** I respect you for engaging in these difficult discussions with your family. It's our responsibility to hold our own people accountable. We can't be passive or indifferent about this.

 **( sms: eugene )** Hope you don't mind that I went off on a rant there lol

 **( sms: steven )** omg it's more than okay!!! i love reading your views on all this. i never really had anyone to talk to about these topics growing up ;;; even now, i feel like it's not openly discussed enough.

 **( sms: steven )** and-- i just wanted to let you know that you're so perfect and gorgeous the way you are ;-; <3 <3 <3 

**( sms: steven )** also i really admire how you express yourself through fashion ;u; <3 you're my inspiration for dressing the way i want. and not dressing the way that's expected of me.

 **( sms: eugene )** Aw, thanks, Stevie.

 **( sms: eugene )** But I thought you have a crush on Andrew? :) 

**( sms: steven )** e U g enE!!!!!!!!!!!! 

**( sms: steven )** >///< !!!!!!!!!

 **( sms: eugene )** LMAO sorry couldn't help it

 **( sms: eugene )** Also I appreciate you standing up for me against your family. It couldn't have been easy.

 **( sms: eugene )** You've done more for me than the people I grew up around.

 **( sms: steven )** gene ;n; <3 you don't need to thank me for that. i'll always defend and support you!!! <3 <3 <3

 **( sms: eugene )** Same to you <3

 **( sms: eugene )** Any other questions about coming out?

 **( sms: steven )** if you don't mind me asking.......what was it like when you came out?

 **( sms: eugene )** Oh, boy.

 **( sms: eugene )** I'm going to preface this by saying that my experience isn't like everyone else's. I don't want this to scare you. Just gonna be honest.

 **( sms: eugene )** I came out to my family when I was in high school. It wasn't under the circumstances of when I was ready to come out. But well-- shit hit the fan.

 **( sms: eugene )** Specifically with conversations, it involved more than just saying, "I'm gay." I had to explain that LGBTQ+ individuals exist. And how there's nothing 'wrong', sick', 'abnormal' about us. And it's not a passing phase. There was a lack of empathy, understanding and acceptance from my family. All the barriers we talked about made things harder.

 **( sms: eugene )** Also my family was a fucking mess, because of the divorce. My sisters weren't homophobic, but...at the time, they weren't supportive. Mostly because my coming out made everything worse at home. They were looking to me to fix the family. Not destroy us even more. I don't resent them for that, but-- yeah.

 **( sms: eugene )** Long story short: coming out for me was Hell.

 **( sms: eugene )** And I learned that coming out isn't an one-time act. It's a lifetime journey.

 **( sms: eugene )** For me, it's to the point I had to come out MULTIPLE times to my parents. Every time I saw either my mother or father during college, their denial was so strong that they 'forgot' that I'm not straight lol jfc

 **( sms: eugene )** So, I'd come out again, we'd fight again, not interact for a while again, and repeat. It was exhausting for everyone. They continually held out for the belief that I would 'get over this.'

 **( sms: eugene )** But I drew the line: you either have me in your life as your gay son, or you don't have me in your life at all. I love my family, even with all the fucked up things that happened. But I won't compromise who I am.

 **( sms: eugene )** So, we didn't interact much for a couple of years. It's only recently that we started to reconcile. What people see of my family through TTG is still very new.

 **( sms: eugene )** Also I made it VERY clear that they're going to treat Zach with love and respect, or else I'm leaving the family.

 **( sms: eugene )** There's people I've lost who aren't in my life. Relatives. Friends. Mentors. Does it hurt? Of course. People I loved, trusted and respected threw me away when I needed them the most. 

**( sms: eugene )** But I'm never trading in my self-respect and worth for someone's love. 'cause that shit ain't love. Coming out back then was the first time in my life I FOUGHT for myself. And that's something I'll always carry with me.

 **( sms: eugene )** Fortunately, I'm not alone. Our friends are my found family. I'll always be grateful for that.

 **( sms: eugene )** Sorry for the rambling lol Hope I didn't overwhelm you with all of this info.

 **( sms: steven )** nononono you don't need to apologize!!!! thank you for sharing so much ;-; <3 i'm really grateful. and i just alksdjfalksjdf i love you so much, eugene.

 **( sms: steven )** i know it doesn't help much-- but i'm sorry you had to go through so much pain and loss.

 **( sms: eugene )** Steven, you just EXISTING has made a difference in my life. You help in ways you don't even know.

 **( sms: steven )** QAQ EUGENEEEEE <3 !!!!!!!

 **( sms: steven )** I LOVE YOU ALDSKJALDF <3<3<3 ;n; 

**( sms: eugene )** Love you too, baby bro <3

 **( sms: eugene )** Also know that we don't have any control over how people react when we come out. But you're doing this for yourself.

 **( sms: eugene )** Coming out is an act of self-love.

 **( sms: steven )** kasjdlfkaj i never thought of coming out that way. thank you ;-; <3

 **( sms: steven )** sorry but can i ask one more question? 

**( sms: eugene )** Of course 

**( sms: steven )** do you think andrew will be upset that i've still been in the closet to my family? ,___, i never told him asdkfjasdfjl;;;;

 **( sms: eugene )** No. Absolutely not. 

**( sms: eugene )** That's not who Andrew is. And he cares so deeply for you, Steven.

 **( sms: eugene )** FYI: if anyone gives you shit about being in closet to your family, you tell me. We don't tolerate that kinda bullshit in the LGBTQ+ community. Even when people are in the closet, they matter, they are valid, and they are deserving of love.

 **( sms: eugene )** God fuckin' forbid, anyone gives you a hard time about being in the closet. I'm gonna clap 'em so hard outta the stratosphere they'll fly into another dimension.

 **( sms: steven )** didhsjjxb EUGENE!!!!!!!!!!

 **( sms: eugene )** I'm your gaysian big brother. It's what I do.

 **( sms: eugene )** Or as Zach would say with his kaomojis:

 **( sms: eugene )** (ง •̀_•́)ง ♡♡♡ !!!!!

 **( sms: steven )** w h E e z e alksdjal you're both so cute together Q-Q <3

 **( sms: eugene )** Zach's total uwu which I guess made me embrace my inner uwu too.

 **( sms: steven )** ALKSDJFALKSJDFLSK

 **( sms: steven )** I'M SCREAMING

 **( sms: steven )** but srsly thanks, eugene ,__, this really helps a lot. especially right now when i'm kind of a mess and anxious and not rly sleeping and alskjdfalkj;; i appreciate you talking with me through this. i don't feel as alone

Before Steven can send a flood of heart emojis, the screen lights up with Eugene's Caller ID. Inhaling shakily, Steven answers the call. "Hello?" Despite his best efforts, Steven's voice cracks.

_"Hey, Steven. How're you doing?"_

"I-I'm okay--" Steven laughs breathlessly to cover up a sob. But he fails miserably. 

_"How about you spend the night with us? And by us, I mean Zach, Keith, Ned and our dogs."_

Steven hesitates. He glances at the screen to check the time. "It's almost midnight. I don't wanna impose, or anything like that..."

 _"We're marathoning shitty horror movies, and entertained by Ned being terrified. Troll 2 kinda movies,"_ Eugene states matter-of-factly. In the background, Ned's screaming himself hoarse. Keith and Zach are undoubtedly laughing at Ned. _"Even if that wasn't the case, we'd still want you over. I can pick you up."_

Steven sniffles as he wipes at his face. "Okay." He laughs breathlessly. "Thanks, Gene."

 _"Don't mention it."_ After a pause, Eugene adds, _"I'm really proud of you, Steven. And I'll say that in-person again once I see you."_

While fighting back tears, Steven breathes in. He laughs. "Then you're gonna see me cry."

 _"Nothing wrong with crying. S_ _ee you soon."_

"Mmkay! Bye, Gene."

After hanging up, Steven gets out of bed. He slips on the Santa Monica hoodie. While waiting for Eugene to arrive, Steven rereads the texts. His sight blurs while lingering on some of Eugene's words.

 **( sms: eugene )** Coming out is an act of self-love.

Self-love.

It's such a surreal concept. Perhaps even a little frightening. It's something Steven has little experience with, and runs away from.

But for the first time, the idea of loving himself feels within reach.

* * *

Arm rests dividing flight seats are silly. At least, that's what Steven decides. He never fails to lift up the arm rest. They're like clockwork-- Andrew drapes his arm around Steven, and Steven rests his head on Andrew's shoulder. Steven melts as Andrew plays with his hair. 

He melts over a lot of things Andrew does. Like how Andrew goes lengths to keep Steven warm. Every flight they're on is absurdly cold. Andrew makes Steven slip on his hoodie, which is wonderfully soft and overlarge. He shifts slightly, so Steven can sit horizontally across the two seats with his back to the aircraft's wall. His legs cross over Andrew's lap, knees slightly drawn up. Andrew covers them with the in-flight blankets. Steven chooses a film on the screen in front of them. They share an earbud each. A few minutes into the movie, Steven speaks up.

"Hey, Drew?"

"Mm?"

"Y'know how I'm seeing my family in a couple of weeks?"

"Yeah." Andrew threads his fingers through Steven's hair. "I'm glad your family is having some time together. I'm sure they missed you."

"Thanks." Despite his best efforts, Steven's smile falters. He curls in on himself. "But I-..."

At the realization that Steven's fighting back tears, Andrew's eyes widen. He hushes Steven gently while holding him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to come out to my family."

Andrew blinks. It takes a few moments for Andrew to understand that Steven's in the closet to his family. It never occurred to Andrew, since Steven's out to their friends and co-workers.

As silence drags on, Steven wonders if he sparked anger. Maybe even resentment. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner." The words escape in a frantic rush. "I- I hope you don't hate me. Or if you do, I don't blame you-"

"Stevie." Andrew tightens the embrace. His lips press against silver hair. "I could never hate you. Especially never over something like this."

Relief floods in at first. But it's swiftly followed by a rush of guilt. "Aren't you at least mad?" Steven asks in quiet devastation. "You came out when you were a kid, I mean-- you were outed, and-- terrible things that you never deserved happened and- Oh, god, I'm sorry, I don't mean to say anything wrong or offensive-"

"You're okay." Gently, Andrew dries Steven's tears. "No matter what I've been through, it doesn't make your struggles any less important. Pain isn't a competition." The back of his knuckles run down a damp cheek. "And everyone has the right to come out when they want. And to whom they want. Don't ever feel guilty about that."

Steven's heart aches at the way Andrew looks at him. It's full of kindness, warmth and understanding. Steven holds the front of Andrew's shirt. "I'm so relieved," he confesses with a rough gasp. "I was scared you'd hate me."

"Impossible. What I feel for you is..." Andrew's voice fades before drawing in a deep, slow breath. "I'm so proud of you, Steven. And amazed. You never stop finding ways to be brave."

Overwhelmed by the praise and love, Steven hides his face against Andrew's shoulder. "So are you."

Andrew laughs softly. He shifts around to help Steven get more comfortable. "How're you feeling about it?"

"Scared." Steven's voice is barely audible. "I thought my parents would be alright with this. Especially my mom. She always seemed supportive of LGBTQ+, but..." Anxiety bleeds through him like an insidious oil spill. Staining everything. "I realized that's not the case in a recent phone call. Y'know-- the day when I...almost relapsed."

"What happened in the call?"

The conversation replays in Steven's mind. He can't avoid this anymore. With a deep breath, Steven begins sharing the conversation with Andrew. The blanket and Andrew's shirt strains between his fingers.

"-- and she still wouldn't change her mind about you. I just- I got so mad." Steven's voice breaks. "I was trying to educate her, inform her, call her out. I want her to see how amazing and good you are. That you deserve respect like anyone else. But it was going nowhere, and I'm sorry that I let you down, Drew, I-"

"You didn't. You stood up for me even when I wasn't in the room. Back then, nobody-...Yeah."

All of a sudden, Andrew sounds tired. The man gazes at the window, even though it's closed. His smile holds rue with echoes of sadness. As if he's not surprised by this at all.

And that breaks Steven's heart. Steven holds onto Andrew tighter. Any attempts at holding back tears fail miserably.

Andrew takes Steven's hand again. His other arm holds Steven closer. "Is this what you meant when you said you're afraid of hurting me?" 

Steven chokes on a sob. He knew once the phone call came to light, Andrew would catch on quickly. "You don't deserve to be hurt, you _never_ deserved it-- but I-"

"Stay." Andrew embraces Steven tightly. His voice wavers. "Sometimes, hurt is unavoidable. But I know you're not the one that would hurt me. Or if it did ever happen, it's not on purpose. So-- don't go."

It almost feels like the end of something that hasn't even begun yet. But Andrew's holding on. And so does Steven. He feels the dampness of Andrew's silent tears against his neck.

"I'm keeping my promise," Steven whispers. "I'll protect you."

Andrew's quiet laugh muffles slightly. "It goes both ways." He pulls back a little to look at Steven. "When you talk to your family, do you want me to be there with you?"

Steven draws in a sharp breath. It leaves his insides burning. "Andrew, you don't have to-" He cuts off with hesitation and fear. "Your safety comes first."

"I want to be there." Andrew squeezes Steven's hand. "You don't have to do this alone."

While staring at Andrew, the raging storm inside of Steven calms down. "Okay." He rests his head on Andrew's chest. "Thank you."

Andrew's lips brush across Steven's temple. "We're in this together, yeah?"

"Yeah." The sight of Andrew's grin, the warm light in his eyes makes Steven laugh. "Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SUPPORT BLACK LIVES MATTERS:**  
>  – [blacklivesmatters.carrd.co](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/)  
> – [cosresources.carrd.co](https://cosresources.carrd.co/) (Includes TTG, Watcher, etc. resource links)  
> \- Updates on the CoS BLM Support Goal: (07.07.20) We did it! :D Congrats, everyone! Thank you for helping us meet the goal ♡
> 
> – Fic title from ['Truce' - Twenty One Pilots](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eCeBNwBUkcI) \+ ['Trees' - Twenty One Pilots](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygO2lz3XeSU&feature=youtu.be&t=95)  
> \- Series title from ['Iris' - Goo Goo Dolls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUbJQGqFoi0) \+ ['Run' - Snow Patrol](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ANYENrO5Ct8)
> 
> [ Disclaimer: This is 100% a work of fiction. No association with the real Andrew Ilnyckyj, Steven Lim, Adam Bianchi, Eugene Lee Yang, Zach Kornfeld, Ned Fulmer, Keith Habersberger, Jonathan Kirk, Ryan Bergara, Shane Madej, and other mentioned individuals. ]


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mental health, anxiety, depression, past abuse, past eating disorder, past self-harm, past suicide attempt, homophobia, racism, alcohol
> 
> \-- Ryan and Shane: [in the darkness, would you call in the name of love? ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655962)
> 
> \-- Zach, Eugene, Keith and Ned: [i'll take your hand when thunder roars. ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696462)
> 
> **Please do not share this with Worth It, Watcher, The Try Guys, Buzzfeed Unsolved, or any other RPF individuals. This is not for them to read. Thank you!

Warm, ambient light floods over the space. The place isn't too crowded and raucous yet. It's a Friday when everyone goes to a bar after work. Steven's taking the smallest sips of his drink to pace himself. It's probably going to be his only drink of the night. By now, the entire Internet knows that Steven's tolerance is low. He's gradually rising towards being slightly buzzed, and that's good enough for tonight.

As Steven moves across the floor, he takes comfort in the olive bomber jacket. It's easy to match the jacket with just about anything, such as a simple white t-shirt and black jeans. Steven's been borrowing Andrew's jacket so often that Andrew rarely takes it back.

The moment Steven sees Eugene across the room, his chest seizes. Steven rushes up to him, then slows down with hesitance. He knows that Eugene isn't always the most fond of physical contact. Steven wants to be respectful of that.

But Eugene closes the gap by pulling Steven into his arms. The sudden embrace hurls Steven's heart against his ribcage. He buries his face into Eugene's shoulder. For a silent moment, they just hold onto each other tightly.

"I just--" Two words in and Steven's already choking up. His fingers curl into the back of Eugene's top. "I wanted to say thank you. Like--" Steven draws back to look at Eugene. "These past few days, you've been talking with me, even when you're busy. That means so much."

Eugene chuckles. "I'll always make time for you. Glad you've been reaching out."

"Thanks for listening." Steven's overwhelmed with gratitude. And then awe. "Also, wow--" Steven stares at Eugene with a starstruck gaze. "You look amazing."

Eugene laughs. It sounds softer around the edges. Close to even carefree. When he's not on-camera or in the general public's eye, Eugene wears that metaphorical armor less. "Thanks, Stevie."

His smile brings the light out in kohl-rimmed eyes. Whereas most of their co-workers look a little frazzled after a work day, Eugene still somehow looks stunning. Even his hair is still styled perfectly. There's a black and white flannel tied around his waist. It might be Zach's overlarge shirt, since Steven recognizes that plaid pattern. Steven's eyes linger on the black choker necklace. He's seen Eugene wearing chokers more often now. It's complemented by a simple, loose-fitting black crop top.

"I...Oh, my gosh--" Steven gestures at the shirt. "This looks so good on you."

Endeared and amused, Eugene tilts his head. "You ever wanna try one on?" 

"Oh--" Steven lets out a laugh. It's tinged with subtle nervousness. "I don't know about that. I don't-" Waving at himself ends up as ambiguous flailing. "I don't have the body for it." He's a human toothpick. No real muscular definition. Just skin and bones. 

"Steven Lim." Eugene steps in closer. His hand rests on Steven's shoulder. The other hand holding his drink gestures to emphasize his words. "You are fucking beautiful. You can always wear whatever the Hell you want. And y'know what?"

Eugene downs the rest of his drink, and orders another. He sits on a nearby bar stool, one elbow on the counter. "I'm doubling as your fairy godmother. We'll go shopping." With new drink in hand, Eugene takes a sip. "Or we'll check out my closet that has clothes, not heterosexuality. You can wear anything of mine."

Steven's caught somewhere between laughing or melting. Not only is he flustered, but moved as well. "You're spoiling me."

"I don't get to throw clothes at my sisters as often. Let me do this-"

_"Gene!"_

Eugene sets his drink down in time to catch a hurricane of laughter and joy. Also known as Zach Kornfeld. Zach throws his arms around Eugene's shoulders, and nuzzles into his neck. Eugene's arms tighten around his boyfriend. Nothing's held back as Zach showers him with affection.

"Hey, love." Eugene kisses Zach's temple. "Having fun?"

"Yeah!" Zach rests his head on Eugene's shoulder. Even when Zach's well on his way of getting drunk, his eyes shine brightly. "Hi, Steven! Are you feeling a little better?"

Steven smiles. It's endearing how Zach's overall enthusiasm dials up by millions. "Yeah, I'm doing better. What about you?"

"Good! Ned, Keith and I were brainstorming!"

Eugene lets Zach have some of his drink. "Thought we don't talk about work during nights out."

"I know, I know--" Zach kisses right above Eugene's choker necklace. Passionately, he declares, "But this is super important! We need to complete the trilogy of you sitting in Keith's lap. And by 'trilogy' I mean Star Wars' approach, so it's like _three_ trilogies which means _nine_ times we need you to sit in Keith's lap."

Eugene's smile drops fast as he deadpans. "Fuck no."

"But Gene-- it'll be fun! Or-" Zach pecks his boyfriend's cheek. "We could change things up a bit? You could sit in my lap?"

"I don't know how novel that'll be when I sit in your lap all the time. Because I genuinely enjoy it." 

"You're so cute!" Zach kisses Eugene, then draws back giggling. "No, wait, wait, wait- You're-- you're gwi- gwiyeo- gwi--?"

"Gwiyeowo," Eugene says slowly, articulating the syllables to help Zach with pronunciation.

"Yeah!" Zach takes Eugene's face in his hands. His smile's even more radiant. "You're gwiyeowo! Most gwiyeowo! I love you, Gene!"

Eugene does his best to hold the deadpan, but it's fucking impossible. 'Smitten' doesn't even begin to describe how the man looks. "Love you, too." He sneaks another kiss onto Zach's cheek while pulling his boyfriend in closer.

Steven can't breathe. It's just too damned adorable. And what a sight to see Eugene melt. "You're both so perfect for each other."

"Aw, thanks, Steven! But Gene's the one who's perfect." Zach turns around in the embrace, so that he's leaning back against Eugene's front. One hand reaches up to play with the man's dark hair. "And he's so pretty." Zach's head tilts back to look at Eugene. Fingertips ghosts at the edges of Eugene's eyeshadow. "His makeup tonight is so lovely. Really brings his eyes out."

Steven has to take a long sip of his drink in an attempt to hide his smile. He watches Eugene almost keel over from Zach's praises and affections. Zach giggles as Eugene kisses his forehead.

"Thanks, love." Eugene runs the back of his knuckles down Zach's face. "But the color of your eyes is loveliest."

The words are said with such sincerity that it eliminates anything sickeningly cliche. There's a glimpse of vulnerability in Eugene. As if he can't comprehend his partner's existence. And how they're together, even after all the Hellfire they've been going through. Zach's gaze wavers. With his hand tightening in Eugene's hair, Zach catches his mouth in a kiss. Eugene pulls his boyfriend closer until Zach's in his lap. 

If Steven watches any longer, he might start crying from being so emotionally overwhelmed. Silently, Steven leaves the couple. They're already lost in each other. It's a good chance to get some air, so Steven heads towards the empty outdoor patio. On his way, Steven catches sight of Ned waving wildly, as if giving an imaginary Powerpoint presentation to Shane and Ryan. Keith's interpretative dancing must be to illustrate Ned's key points. Most likely trying to pitch more Eugene-sits-on-Keith's-lap ideas to the Unsolved duo. From Shane and Ryan's equally wild gestures and maniacal laughter, they're scheming as well. Maybe a collaboration's not too far off in the distance.

Outside, the air is open and clear. There's some traces of fading nicotine, but that's expected in this city. A hand touches the small of Steven's back. It feels familiar, so he doesn't jump out of being startled. There's already a smile on Steven's face when he turns around.

Sure enough, it's Andrew. Steven's breath catches in his throat. It's not only from how handsome Andrew looks in the black button down, leather jacket, and dark jeans. His styled blonde hair is a little undone. It's messy in a charming way. What eases Steven's heart is seeing Andrew not as haunted. Andrew looks his age for once rather than exhausted beyond belief. Most of all, he looks relaxed. Even happy.

"Hey, Drew." With a smile, Steven leans into Andrew's touch.

Andrew chuckles warmly. "Hey, Stevie." His arm circles around to hold Steven steady. Andrew blinks at the sight of tears brimming Steven's eyes. "What's wrong? You okay?"

"Happy tears." Steven wipes at his damp eyes. "For Eugene and Zach. Heck-- I mean that for all of our friends."

Andrew laughs softly. "Yeah, I understand. They deserve to be happy."

"Same for you, Drew." Steven moves in a little closer. Their forehead almost touch. He looks right into Andrew's eyes. "You deserve to be happy too."

Silence falls between them. They take in the moment, breathing through it. Steven closes his eyes. As Andrew draws him closer, Steven leans into his warmth.

"I used to not believe in that," Andrew murmurs quietly.

The words pierce Steven. He opens his eyes to see Andrew looking out at the open skies. Steven doesn't interject with his own thoughts yet. Instead Steven gently encourages Andrew to keep talking by resting his head on the man's shoulder. 

"I guess-- life got a little more bearable when I stopped caring about happiness. Stopped caring about a lot of things. I wasn't even really living anymore. Just half-asleep, half-dead." Andrew lets out a breathless laugh. "Then I'm being asked to take a leap of faith. Led to cheersing pizza." His gaze drifts to Steven. "Because I get to stand by you, all of this is worth it."

Somehow, Andrew keeps making Steven feel things he's never felt before. Even now, Steven sees how there's a world of hurt Andrew keeps buried. Steven sets his drink down, so he can hold Andrew with both arms. 

"I'm gonna let that pun slide for tonight."

Andrew laughs. The sound is unapologetically warm, loud and bright. His own drink gets placed aside. "Oh, yeah? Only tonight?"

Steven shakes his head. "You can pun it up all you want, everyday, all day, if it makes you happy. I want you to be happy, Drew." The words are said like a desperate prayer. Steven pleads for God, for the universe, for whatever cosmic power out there to make that come true. 

"I'll never fully understand what you've been through. No one can. But you're not alone." A smile breaks through even as tears well in Steven's eyes. "I'm so grateful and happy you're doing Worth It with me, and you've made my life better, and I wanna do the same for you, and I-" Steven's rambling cuts off when he needs air. He buries his face into Andrew's neck and shoulder. Against his pulse, Steven confesses, "I like you, Andrew. No, I-"

Steven takes in a deep breath. He leans back, so their eyes meet.

"I'm in love with you."

There's a kind of crying that sometimes hurts more than tears scorching down skin. It's when tears balance precariously on the edge of your eyes. And right now, Andrew's tears are right on the brink of falling. Every word Steven said, no matter how messy and strained, hits Andrew hard. Reaching into places that make Andrew wonder if there's still something good left in him after all.

"Steven, I-"

"You don't need to feel the same." Steven smiles. There's no sadness. No rue. Only genuine, freely given love. His voice cracks as he says, "I just want you to know that you're loved. And-"

"You shouldn't waste your love on me."

Steven recoils as if he's been hit. He stares at Andrew with a stricken expression. "W-what?" The alcohol begins to make him feel nauseous. Or maybe that's just anxiety and heartbreak. "Is...it not enough?"

Andrew's eyes widen. Realizing how his words could easily be misinterpreted, guilt stabs at his insides. "Fuck, no. Stevie, your love's always been more than enough." He tightens his hold on Steven, then lets go. "What I mean is--" Andrew clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides. Until finally his hands open in defeat. "I'm not easy to love, Steven. You haven't seen the worst." Shaking his head, Andrew takes a step back. "Like when my depression hits low, it hits fucking hard. I can barely leave the bed."

"Then I'll be in bed with you." Steven takes two steps forward. He squares his shoulders. "And-- I'm going to have to disagree with you."

Andrew blinks. "About what?"

"It's not that you're not easy to love. It's that people in the past didn't truly love you." Steven takes Andrew's hand. "And that's never been your fault, Drew. You have _always_ been _more than enough._ " He looks down at their clasped hands. "I'm not-...I'm not perfect by any means. Still got a lot to work on."

Each and every scar under his clothes scream. But Steven refuses to listen to them anymore. He looks up, eyes alight with determination and courage.

"But if there's one thing I can do right, it's being by your side. I promise, I'll do everything to love you the way you deserve." Both hope and fear waver in Steven's eyes. "Will you let me?"

Andrew answers with a kiss.

The kiss is soft and kind. All things they've never been given in the past. But everything they've been giving to each other, since the first day met. Andrew cradles the side of Steven's head and neck, holding him steady. Steven holds onto Andrew tighter. When there's a hint of a sob from Steven, Andrew kisses him deeper. Steven returns the kiss without caring about the taste of tears. There's an undercurrent of fear, knowing that being together leaves them open to hatred and cruelty and fire. But love gives them the strength to choose each other. Only once it's impossible to deny their lungs oxygen does the kiss break.

"You know that you're loved too, right?" Andrew's out of breath, but he's determined for Steven to hear these words. His thumb runs over Steven's cheekbone. "Because I've been in love with you for a long time. And Stevie-" One hand drifts down to rest on Steven's hip. Right over a cluster of scar tissue. "You say you'll be with me when I can't leave the bed. I need you to know I'll be with you on the kitchen floor." His thumb traces over a scar under Steven's shirt. "Because I love all of you."

"I--" Joy swells too strongly in Steven for him to talk. With a quiet, happy sob, Steven hides his face against Andrew's shoulder. After a shuddering breath, Steven turns his head, and sneaks a glance at Andrew. "Kiss me again?"

Andrew laughs warmly before bringing their lips together. Anxiety that's been raging inside begins to quell. The storms they've been caught in for so long slowly passes over. They know well enough there's only more storms on the horizon. But as the kiss ends with both of them smiling-- they know they'll be alright.

Together, they'll get through to the other side.

Gently, Andrew kisses the corner of Steven's lips. "Do you wanna come home with me?"

Steven draws back a little, so they can look at each other. "Andrew- I-- I _do_ want to sleep with you. Like-- gosh, you have no idea how much I want you." Scarlet passes over his face. But Steven still holds a steadfast gaze. "But neither of us are completely sober. Even if we're barely buzzed, I won't ever do anything without your consent."

Andrew stares.

Steven stares back. Eyes widening. Did Steven think too far ahead? Is he rushing?

Andrew's blank expression gives way to a warm smile. "You're amazing, you know?" He catches Steven's hand to kiss his knuckles. "Most people in the past weren't kind like you."

Steven's chest tightens. Something cold fissures through him. "Andrew...?"

With a reassuring smile, Andrew shakes his head. "Story for another time. Don't worry." He kisses the side of Steven's face. "I'm in a better, safer place now. One reason being that I'm with you." 

Steven holds onto Andrew with a surge of protectiveness. "No one's ever going to hurt you again, Drew."

The back of Andrew's hand wipes at his eyes. "Thanks, darling." He watches in endearment as Steven melts from the pet name. Even gets a little starry eyed. "And I was thinking of my place, so we can Netflix and chill?"

Steven's eyes brighten. "Netflix and _cuddle?_ "

"Yeah." Andrew lets out a chuckle. "All the cuddling you could ever want."

"Let's go home."

Those three words bring more warmth to their smiles. After sharing another kiss, their fingers lace together. Hands remaining clasped as they head out. 

During the rideshare, Steven rests his head on Andrew's shoulder. Every so often he sneaks kisses onto Andrew's cheek, or nuzzles against him. Andrew shoots a text into the group chat, so everyone knows they're headed home for the night. When the phone returns to its lock screen, the blurry photo of Steven and Andrew from the pier amusement park appears. Laughing softly, Steven holds onto Andrew's arm tighter.

"I loved that day." Steven nuzzles Andrew some more. "Next time we go, I'll kiss you."

"And I'll push you into the water."

"Drew!"

"Okay, okay. I'm kidding." Andrew grins boyishly. "What I actually meant is that I'll carry you into the water."

Steven's face burns. "Why do you make that sound romantic?"

"Because afterwards, I'll do this." Andrew tilts Steven's face, so he can lean in to kiss him. 

Steven melts against Andrew as their lips meld gently. "In that case, you can even throw me." Steven laughs in spite of himself. "We're so sappy."

"Mmhm. And I love every second of it," Andrew says before leaning in for another kiss.

Once the ride ends, Andrew tips the driver, and they head towards Andrew's apartment. Steven hugs Andrew from behind while the door unlocks.

As soon as they're inside, Steven pins Andrew up against the wall, and kisses him deeply. It catches Andrew off guard. But it's clear he doesn't mind as his lips curve into a smile. Hooking his fingers into Steven's belt loops, Andrew pulls him in closer. Steven curls his fingers into Andrew's hair, pulling on the blonde locks. Andrew bites back a moan at the sound of Steven's whimper. The kiss breaks once their lungs scream for air. 

"Wow." Andrew laughs while out of breath.

"Too much?"

"Not at all."

Panting lightly, Steven confesses, "There's something I've always wanted to do. Well--" He tilts his head while in thought. "Two things."

Andrew blinks with intrigue. "Yeah?"

"This." Steven presses his lips against Andrew's forehead. "And this." Then he kisses Andrew's cheek.

Overwhelmed, Andrew slides down the wall with his face buried in his hands. After a deep inhale, Andrew mumbles something. Laughing, Steven kneels down, so they're at eye level. He gently pries Andrew's hands away. 

"What'd you say, babe?"

"Oh, my god-" Andrew tries to breathe. He's reeling from the pet name as well. "Stevie, how are you _so cute?_ "

"Don't know what you're talking about." Steven takes Andrew's face in his hands while climbing into the man's lap. He showers him with light kisses. "If you wanna talk about 'cute', I'd say it's you."

Instead of trying to hide his face from being flustered, Andrew grins at Steven. He tugs him in closer by the front of his shirt, so they meet in a kiss. "I adore you."

Steven smiles right back. "I adore you more."

"I adore you most." While kissing Steven again, Andrew stands and lifts him.

"Drew!" Steven's laughter fills the air. He wraps his arms around Andrew's shoulders, and his legs around his waist. Steven leans in to kiss Andrew, then nuzzles him. "Next time, I'm carrying you, okay?"

"Sure." Andrew walks towards the bedroom. "If you can beat me to it."

Steven falls on the bed with a fit of giggles. His forearm crosses over his face in an attempt to hide his blush. Andrew straddles Steven, arms on either side, leaning down. He smiles while watching Steven blush harder. Steven's eyes turn into lovely crescent moons from smiling so much. Then comes endless affection from Andrew, anything from light touches to kisses.

"Drew--" Steven's laughter muffles against his sleeve. He smiles when Andrew catches his lips in another kiss. Before Andrew can draw away, Steven pulls him in closer with a hand on the back of his neck. "Is it too soon to ask...?"

"You can always ask and say anything." Andrew brushes silver bangs back.

Steven draws in a deep breath. "So-- what now? Like what do we do?"

"I'd love to date you. But I want to hear what you want."

There's a glimpse of Steven's smile before he covers his face. He even goes far as turning onto his side, and burying his face into the bed. Andrew laughs. He gets Steven to look at him after showering him with more light kisses. 

"I want that too," Steven says with warm eyes. "Now our show will be even more like dates."

"And I get to make romantic puns." Andrew grins broadly as Steven groans. "You regretting this yet?"

Steven takes Andrew's face in his hands. "Never."

Now that they can kiss freely, they can't get enough of it. They kiss slowly. Savoring in the feel of each other, in the existence of this moment. When their lips part, Andrew takes Steven's hand, and kisses his knuckles.

"Do you still want me there when you come out to your family?"

Steven's breath catches in his throat. "Only if you're alright with it. And it's totally okay to change your mind."

"Yeah. I want to be with you when it happens." Andrew holds Steven's hand. "More than ever."

"Would it be alright if I introduced you to them as my boyfriend?"

Quirking a brow, Andrew grins. "So, I'm your boyfriend now?"

Steven doesn't know whether to be flustered or nervous. He's wavering somewhere in-between. "I- I mean-"

With a hand on the side of Steven's face, Andrew presses their lips together. "Yes. To everything." He kisses Steven's cheek. "Hope that means you're my boyfriend too."

"Of course, dude!" Steven falls apart into another fit of giggles.

Steven's joy is infectious like always. With a grin, Andrew helps Steven onto his feet. They change into more comfortable sleepwear. Steven settles for one of Andrew's softest, white button downs. Just when he's about to start closing the buttons, Andrew stands behind him, and kisses the back of his neck.

"I'm proud of you." Slowly, Andrew buttons up the shirt, leaving the top few undone. One hand rests on Steven's hip. His thumb feels a scar. "For reaching out. And still choosing recovery."

Steven's chest swells. "Thanks for helping me that day." His hand settles over Andrew's. "But what if...by chance-- I relapse someday? If I get bad again?"

Andrew turns Steven around, so they stand facing each other. "I'll keep loving you."

It's a promise. One that Steven's going to carry inside. And he'll do the same for Andrew. The white noise of anxiety and fear quietens when they kiss.

"Actually--" says Andrew after their lips part. "There's one thing I've wanted to do with you."

Steven watches with curious eyes. Andrew sets his phone on the bedside table. After tapping on the screen a few times, music plays in the air. Steven's eyes sting with tears at the familiar chords of 'Iris'. This is one of those songs you come into the world already knowing. Steven's breath hitches when Andrew holds his hand out.

"Dance with me?"

Smiling, Steven wipes at his eyes. "Nobody's asked me that before."

"And I've never asked anyone." Andrew smiles warmly. "Fair warning-- I can't dance."

"Awesome." With a laugh, Steven takes Andrew's hand. "I can't either."

Andrew helps Steven onto his feet. One of Andrew's hand rests on Steven's waist. The other hand settles in the space between his shoulder blades. Steven wraps his arms around Andrew's shoulders. Andrew holds Steven close, keeping him in a protective embrace. Despite having no dancing skills whatsoever, they can still sway together to this song.

Somewhere between kisses full of promise, and three precious words, and chords they know by heart--

"I can feel it."

"That today's a good day?"

"Yeah. And something more--"

"What?"

"Tomorrow will be better."

Breathless laughter lights up the room. Even when it's deep into the night, it feels as if the sun is already rising.

"Thank you for staying alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SUPPORT BLACK LIVES MATTERS:**  
>  – [blacklivesmatters.carrd.co](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/)  
> – [cosresources.carrd.co](https://cosresources.carrd.co/) (Includes TTG, Watcher, etc. resource links)  
> \- Updates on the CoS BLM Support Goal: (07.07.20) We did it! :D Congrats, everyone! Thank you for helping us meet the goal ♡
> 
> Thank you for reading my first Standrew story! ;u; ♡ Lately, there's been a lot of storms in my life. I gave all of my fears, pain, everything to this fic. Somehow along the way, I've been able to get back on track with recovery. Writing this story felt like coming home. So, I hope this story can bring you a little comfort and joy. Please keep supporting Black Lives Matters however you can. And always remember-- you are not alone. We're in this fight together. Stay safe and take care of yourselves! ♡♡
> 
> \-- Special thank you to [cynicalamethyst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicalamethyst/pseuds/cynicalamethyst), [olympia2007](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olympia2007/pseuds/olympia2007) and [destielonfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielonfire/pseuds/destielonfire). You've been supporting me through difficult times these past few months. Thank you for standing by me when I needed it most ♡ Lots of love and hugs!
> 
> \-- Another heartfelt thank you to [xalys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xalys/pseuds/xalys) for notifying me that my Zagene fic was plagiarized. I'm grateful you reached out to let me know. And thank you to everyone who helped by commenting and/or contacting the AO3 team. It means a lot to have readers who will protect my works ;u; ♡
> 
> [ Disclaimer: This is 100% a work of fiction. No association with the real Andrew Ilnyckyj, Steven Lim, Adam Bianchi, Eugene Lee Yang, Zach Kornfeld, Ned Fulmer, Keith Habersberger, Jonathan Kirk, Ryan Bergara, Shane Madej, and other mentioned individuals. ]


End file.
